


The Mechanic

by Besin



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Reality - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Disorder, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, M/M, Parallel Universes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Science Fiction, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6745132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Besin/pseuds/Besin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewrite of Original:</p><p>Sora, a Mechanic in training, may never see the front lines. This was never a problem until the Keyblade chose him. He had planned to stay out of the crossfire of Heartless, Apprentices, and Mages, but it seems reality itself has something else in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stake That Sticks Out

**Author's Note:**

> This rewrite was years in the making, the original version is on AO3 (link in my profile,) I do not own Kingdom Hearts, and I am not apologizing for the seagull. Updates will be once every two weeks to allow proper editing time. Cover art by GravityBeams. Link to the original Mechanic chapters can be found on my profile.

Art by [GravityBeams](http://kollapsar.tumblr.com/)

Radiant Garden, five years after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
A private conversation between Master Aqua and an Official of Midgar 

_"I hate to say this, but you can't be in two places at once."_  
_"Yes, I know. I'm looking into the matter now."_  
_"How about taking on a few apprentices?"_  
_"That would take time. I have to be out there on the front lines with all the others. Teaching is a full-time position; one I can't afford at the moment."_  
_"Then how about starting a school for us? We can set it up on an empty planet and train volunteers to fight. You don't have to be there at first, but when we have enough mages to keep the Heartless at bay you can settle down and take a few choice students under your wing."_  
_"I'll admit, that's not a bad idea."_

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter One: The Stake that Sticks Out**

_Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth By Sleep Incident_

The Universe opened with a scream. Not with a bang, but with a shriek. A drowning screech of metal as it dragged and scraped through the high, vaulted ceilings of a warehouse. It built; wavered; died, lingering in the air as an aftertaste. Air settled. Sound settled. And in the wake of the sound, a room remained.

Wires snaked across the floor, draped themselves across shelves and large opaque glass walls, winding through the many nooks and crannies of the Gummi hangar. Large, brightly labeled buckets sat scattered across the room. Their long, thin nozzles presented upright to salute the high ceiling. Sandwiched between ships and cargo, lengths of thickly insulated wire in bright colors swam across the floor. Blues, yellows, reds; interrupted by a blot of blue-gray.

Across the room, the screaming faded to a slow, awkward pause.

Staring up at the hinges, insulted, a young woman peered into the filthy room with one eye squinted forcefully.

“Hello?” she called cautiously.

The sound careened across the workshop, slamming forcefully into a small set of empty paint cans that wobbled and shook but somehow managed to remain upright.

Feet picking forward through the mess of wires littering the floor, the woman inched into the hangar with cautious eyes. She eased around a large, dismantled cockpit, eyeing the exposed chairs skeptically as she turned, glancing from ship to ship. “Sora?” she called. “Are you in here?” Her eyes roved over long coils of cording, following them to tightly wound spools clustered in a pile lining the edge of the room. Rounding another cluster of dismantled ships, her attention locked on a pair of legs slumped across the floor like a bowl of discarded noodles. They lay there, limp, and for all of a second the woman imagined the dissected hull above their filthy slacks had severed them from their greasy stump of a human.

Bending at the knee, the woman crouched beside the disembodied legs, her head tilted amusedly to the side. “Hey, Sora,” she whispered. “Hey.”

One disembodied leg’s shoe gave a slight twitch, but otherwise remained stationary.

A manicured hand shook its way from the woman’s blazer sleeve. Propping it up before the leg, she lightly pressed it to the length of greasy slacks just above one dark boot. “恋はみじかい　夢のようなものだけど,” she began lightly, dragging her nail up the foreign shin.

Head snapping forward with a cry of sheer, unbridled terror, a face slammed forcefully into the sea of wiring suspended before it.

Across the room, the set of precarious paint cans clattered aimlessly across a section of unattended cord.

“Sora, you lazy bum,” she teased lightly. “I knew I’d find you snoozing down here.”

Hand clamping around an exposed bar peeking from between strings of brightly colored wire, two bright blue eyes emerged. Dark eyelashes fluttered sleepily. A filthy hand drew up from the floor, sliding skeptically against slanted brows. “Kairi?” Sora gaped, head wagging from side to side in disbelief. “I didn’t know you were back. What time is it?”

Reaching into the satchel hanging from her shoulder, Kairi retrieved a small phone, shaking it once. The screen glowed faintly, displaying a small clock on its face. "25-64, according to my newly updated PHS," she replied blandly, tucking it back into her bag. She frowned, finger catching on the badge hanging from a lanyard on her neck. Yanking it free, she turned back to the boy with a sigh. "You shouldn't be working this late. It'll throw off your schedule."

Sora shrugged, sliding back beneath the ship. "There are three suns. I think everyone stopped caring about schedules in their first year." His fingers went still against the panel and he grimaced. Reaching behind him, he shifted forward to grab at the tie twisted in the long lengths of his hair. Drawn into a ponytail, the strands trailed along the floor, draping along wires and across the dark fabric of his uniform blazer before ending loosely at his waist. He twisted them into a wide bun, setting it beside his head with a sigh. "Besides, I have to have it done by tomorrow."

“What are you doing?” she asked lightly, settling onto a cleaner batch of wires with a dry twist of her mouth. “Looks tedious.”

With a long sigh, he brought back one hand to wave a wire stripper from beneath the line of the ship. “Rewiring everything between the artificial gravity generator and the circuit boards.”

Kairi eyed the wire stripper, brows drawing together. “Why?” she asked, watching as the tool disappeared from view.

“Because some idiot tried to gun it out of a critical mass zone.”

Silence.

Red eyelashes fluttered with shock. “Are you telling me someone flew into a black hole?”

“Apparently,” he drawled.

“Did they live?”

The mechanic shrugged. "If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be rewiring their gravity generators.”

“Touché.” Tugging uncomfortably at the bottom of her uniform blazer, Kairi shifted in her seat. “Second year evaluations start tomorrow, right?”

"Eight days of doom? Sure do," the boy confirmed into the mess of wires in his face.

"Why are you up so late?"

He scoffed. "I told you; I have to have this done by tomorrow." Pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose, Sora heaved a sigh. It blew across the mess of wires, earning him a wash of his own warm morning breath. He grimaced.

“Fine. In that case, I won’t give you the cigarettes I got from Traverse Town.”

A loud clang ripped from beneath the ship, and Sora emerged with a wide grin. “What?”

Reaching into her satchel, she presented a single squashed pack of cigarettes, presenting them for observation with an affectionate twist of her lips. “You owe me.”

“You are a lifesaver,” he declared warmly. He shifted onto his side, pushing himself up from the rolling board at his back to reach for the pack.

Kairi snatched it away with a shake of her head. “Compensation,” she insisted.

Reaching immediately for his pocket, he nodded sharply. “How much?”

“Twenty-five munny.”

Sora paused. Slowly, his eyes trailed up to the girl before him, skeptical. “What?”

“Twenty-five munny,” she parroted dutifully.

“Cigarettes do not cost that much.”

“Cost of transportation.”

“Gummi ships literally run on the energy generated by the vacuum of space tearing at its internal systems,” Sora pointed out sharply.

“I’m expensive.”

“You’re not twenty-five munny.”

“That’s the cost of smuggling cigarettes onto a planet where toxins are illegal to possess without a lab license,” she stated, matter of fact.

Levelling her with a dry grimace, the man reached into his pocket, digging out a few small cubes with a sniff. “Take your blood money,” he drawled, smacking them into Kairi’s outstretched hand.

“Excellent," Kairi announced smugly. Tossing the pack into her friend’s lap, she shoved her free hand deep into her satchel. Tossing another squashed box into Sora’s awaiting lap, she grinned amusedly.

“What-” Sora squawked as five more packs joined the two in his lap, landing with muffled complaints against his slacks. “What-”

Kairi giggled. “Good luck getting them back to your dorm room unnoticed.”

“What the fish, Kairi?”

“Twenty-five easily covers everything I got for you,” she drawled.

Abashed grin slipping from his lips, Sora huffed a laugh. Reaching for the first of the packs, he carefully slipped it into the inside pocket of his blazer. “You,” he began, stuffing two in the hem of his slacks, “are officially my best friend.”

“What does that make Riku? Cod liver oil?”

"Riku's not here right now."

"Then I'll just have to do, won't I?" She threw one arm over his shoulder, tugging him forward as she shifted her weight onto her knees, leaning against his shoulder. Wrapping her arms firmly around his neck, she gave him an affectionate squeeze.

Returning the favor, Sora draws back with a chuckle. Gathering up the packs that had spilled onto the floor, he set about storing them about his person. “How was your trip?” he asked, curious.

"Kinda boring, actually," she admitted, withdrawing her arm from the man’s shoulder and fiddling with the neck of her dark blazer. "Although it was nice to get out of this stiff uniform."

"What? Is our anti-gravity underwear not good enough for you, princess?" he teased.

She shook her head slowly. "Don’t call me that."

"Forgive my transgression, princess," he drawled jokingly.

“You had a week off, right? To prepare for finals?” Kairi segwayed loudly. “Did you remember to check in with the lab?”

Sora saluted cheekily. “Sir, yes sir,” he answered sharply. “Lots of time was spent in the labs, sir!”

“Was Ienzo there?”

“Yes, sir!”

"Did he chew you out again?"

For a long moment, Sora stared blankly into space. Then, with a hand twisting in his hair, he laid back against the rolling board and slid beneath the ship.

“Sora, are you alright?”

“He doesn’t chew me out,” he defended softly, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a crushed pack of cigarettes. Smacking it against the board, he stared into the mass of wires before him, throwing a brief, distracted glance at the small glowing ball beside his head as it flickered, shadows reaching across the bottom of the ship. After a few uneasy seconds the light evened out, returning to its steady, reliable glow.

“Sora-”

“Let’s change subjects.”

Staring at the seam where the ship met Sora’s disembodied legs, Kairi shrugged. “Okay… How was your Phys. Ed. exam?"

He snorted. "You have just lost best friend status."

"I take it things were… entertaining?”

Narrow blue eyes twitched. Meeting across his stomach, his hands fumbled with the cigarette carton, tearing off the top to interrupt the sudden tense silence. “Entertaining,” he quoted lightly. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” Reaching into the pack, he retrieved a single cigarette, slipping it between his lips with a light sigh. “That’s certainly a word for it.”

Bending forward, Kairi planted her hands on the floor, leaning down until her short red hair brushed the curve of Sora’s knees. “What happened?” she asked, cautious.

Tanned fingers snapped, and the outstretched thumb burned with a small flame that glittered at the tip of its nail. Bringing his hand up, Sora carefully lit his cigarette, breathing in long and slow before shaking the flame away. Snatching up the stick, he exhaled quietly. Smoke spilled into the air, smothering the bout of a clean breeze that wound through the hangar and beneath the ship. “I tripped over the start line,” he informed her solemnly, peering curiously at the side of the cigarette as the fruity aftertaste of peaches lingered on his tongue. “Fell into the jumping blocks, too.  By the time I made it to the tire runs everyone had already passed me.”

“So you got last place. So what?”

“I failed,” he corrected her softly, slipping the cigarette back into his mouth with an amused raise of his eyebrows.

Kairi sighed. “You failed,” she repeated quietly. “Which means a remedial block. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Not one,” Sora corrected her. “Two blocks. This is the second time I’ve failed this class.”

“A double block of remedial courses,” she breathed. Rising up, she turned to face the door, eyeing the peeling yellow paint without emotion. “That’s rough.”

“Riku would never get double-blocked.”

Peering down at the filthy dark slacks at her side, Kairi sighed warmly. “You’re not Riku.”

Sora remained silent.

“Look,” she began slowly. “I know you’re beating yourself up about this – you always do – but you shouldn’t worry about it. You’re a mechanic. You’re training to be an on-call specialist. Phys. ed. courses aren’t… You can get an exception and still graduate. Why don’t you just drop it?”

“Riku wouldn’t drop it.”

“Riku has a Keyblade,” she reminded him lightly. “He wouldn’t be allowed to drop it.”

“He still wouldn’t have dropped it. He doesn’t drop anything.”

Rising slowly to her feet, Kairi reached into the pocket of her slacks, producing a small cigarette box. Popping it open, she snatched up a single stick before popping it into her mouth. “I could use a light,” she requested lowly.

Feet stomping along the floor, Sora slid out from beneath the ship with a shrug. He stood with a sigh. Offering his hand, he snapped his fingers once more, the small marble of flame licking at his thumb as he brought it to the end of the paper stick.

Inhaling lightly, Kairi nodded appreciatively as it caught. “Thanks,” she breathed out as his hand moved away, sending a stream of smoke billowing from her nose to flutter across her blouse.

He shrugged, bringing his own cigarette back to his mouth. “New brand?”

“Yeah.” Reaching up, she mussed her red hair lightly, turning back to stare at the door. She eyed its peeling yellow paint critically.

It was a while before either of them spoke, their cigarettes burning down to the butts.

Leaning back against the ship, Sora sighed. “I’ve been having these weird thoughts lately,” he admitted. His eyes turned to the floor, wrist attached to his cigarette drooping.

“Or really?” she asked, skeptical. “Like what?”

“Like… if I change my shampoo-”

Kairi’s face fell.

“- to gysahl green scent-”

Her eyebrows rose.

“- will chocobos start finding me attractive?”

“I’ll get the hair bleach,” she replied in all seriousness. “Let’s find out.”

Sora snorted.

“That’s…” Her eyes turned from the door back to the boy beside her. “That’s not really what you were going to say, was it?”

“Nah,” Sora relied softly. His arms fell back against the board, draping limp against the worn wood. “We were talking about home planets in Cultural Studies. How our original upbringing will never completely leave us. Those are our stepping stones. You can’t build a staircase, only to go back and remove the bottom three steps.”

She nodded obligingly, listening intently.

“It just got me thinking. Everything has changed since we left the islands. So drastically it’s almost crazy. And it keeps changing as we meet more and more people, learning about new worlds and new cultures. And while I was listening to the class discuss things in further detail, I thought to myself… Is any of this for real? Or not?”

Kairi eyed him carefully, lips straightening into a dull, empty line as her eyes grew lax and expressionless.

“Our eyes work as receptors, reading the world the only way they can. As color and shape and size. But that’s not actually what the world...” Glancing up at her expression, Sora turned away with a bitter chuckle slipping through the cynical twist of his lips. “Never mind,” he murmured. “I’m just talking crazy again.”

Soft, pink lips drop open to answer, but close gently. And closed they remained.

He snorted. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“I think you’re Sora,” Kairi replied without hesitation. “That’s all that really matters.”

Unbidden, a smile parted a nervous line. “Yeah,” he agreed lightly. “I guess.” Turning back to the ship, he fell to his knees beside the rolling board before rolling onto it.

At his side, the woman took a seat.

“I got a letter from Vanille,” the mechanic murmured softly, voice carrying gently from beneath the ship.

“Oh, really?” Kairi cooed. “Does she miss you?”

“She misses all of us.”

“She only dated you.”

“And she was friends with all of us,” Sora reprimands lightly, turning his eyes away from the wires to peer half angrily at the neat slacks just visible beneath the curve of the ship’s skeleton. Shifting his attention back to his hands, he adjusted his cigarette before continuing. “She asked about Riku. He stopped writing home, apparently.”

Kairi sighed. “Sounds like something Riku would do.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“How long has he been gone, anyway?”

Reaching up to snatch this cigarette from his lips, Sora let loose a long billow of smoke. “Twelve weeks, one day. And we've passed a Semester since then, so that's ninety-eight Maunder days.”

“You’ve been counting,” Kairi whispered darkly.

“That's just over four months, regular time. 122 and one half days – 123 on the dot including the change hours from his departure.”

“Careful – your brain is showing.”

“My brain isn’t going to rot from a little sunlight.”

Rising to her feet, Kairi’s hands patted ineffectively at the rear of her slacks, attempting to bat away the fresh grime that clung to them. “Well, I’m going to get some sleep. Exams tomorrow.” She waved goodbye casually and began to make her way across the room.

“Don’t remind me,” Sora groaned, eyes sliding shut angrily.

“Hey, it could be worse,” she called over her shoulder. “You could have a keyblade.”

Sora’s lips thinned into a grim line.

As the door slid shut in her wake, the room echoed with the semblance of a breeze whistling through the wires.

“Yeah,” Sora agreed, voice hissing between his teeth on a whisper of a breath. “I could have a keyblade.” Reaching to his side, he grabbed at a pair of wire strippers. But as his fingers gripped the rubberized handle, his wrist went slack. His eyes turned once more to the section beneath the curve of the ship’s skeleton where Kairi’s legs had been visible seconds before. “I’ve been having these dreams, lately,” he announced to the absent woman. “We’re in a cave, and you disappear.”

**-T-M-**

Rising above the horizon, the first of three suns peeked over the vast sandscape of Maunder, bringing nightfall to an end.

Beneath a small pile of blankets, Sora groaned. “No,” he moaned. “It can’t be morning yet.”

“It’s morning,” the sun declared. Its light filtered through the thick glass walls, fluttering into the room as it did the rest of the building, setting the Academy alight.

Sora rolled over, pulling the sheet up over his face. “No,” he whined, waving his hand angrily in the direction of the window. “Turn off. Close. Darken.”

It persisted, as suns tend to do.

Rising from the mattress with an aborted groan, the mechanic rolled off the edge and onto the floor. Beneath the thin layer of carpet, another thick layer of glass boomed.

“Why.”

**-T-M-**

Edging up to the mess hall doors, Sora groaned as Kairi popped up beside him, smacking him on the head.

“You have a raging headache, don’t you?” she chastised him smartly. “That’s what you get for staying up so late.”

“I was taking naps,” he argued sharply, voice a high whine.

“I’m pretty sure naps don’t count when they’re taken on wooden boards that roll.”

“Whatever you say.” Large feet navigated quickly around the frame of a wide door, bringing Sora into a vast room cluttered with neat rows of seats and tables. Plopping weakly onto a bench, his face fell heavily onto the waxed surface before him.

Kairi snickered, taking her own seat with a grin. Poking at the table, she hummed happily as a menu unfolded itself on the surface before her, digital lines glimmering to display the day’s special. “Ooh, brussel sprouts a la mode.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Other glorious options include salmon and bananas, lasagna tacos, baked squid with hollandaise sauce, seagull, and gefilte fish puree.”

Lifting his head curiously from the table, Sora eyed the menu critically. “That’s not what it…” He paused, eyes roaming over the page. “Seagull.”

“Yup.”

“We live in a desert.”

“Yup.” Popping her P, Kairi tapped at the menu with one lazy, manicured finger.

Sora hummed. “Got your nails painted?”

“Yup.” Dragging her finger along the display, she selected ‘Seagull’ with a curious hum.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“If it’s disgusting, you’re sharing your breakfast with me. What else are friends for?”

“Moral support to help you get through that seagull.”

Kairi rest her hands on the edge of her seat, leaning back as the menu faded back into the table. “You should order. Get something horribly mundane. Like Miso soup.”

Sora stared at her for a long, tense few seconds before announcing, “I am suddenly craving Miso soup.”

Just as he finished, a small ping sounded from the table, announcing the arrival of a small exclamation mark shimmering brightly where the menu had been. Hopping up from the table, Kairi chimed, “Food’s done,” before jaunting happily across the room.

Attention turning to the table, Sora swiped a thumb across the surface with a grimace. Up came the menu with a gentle chime, displaying the day’s specials in glittering bold. His eyes slid along the options, half mast, recognizing a few of the tamer entrees. Eggs, Sausage, Beans, Toast, Fa, Gagh, Spoo, Gargle, Rice, and finally Miso. Tapping it twice, then dragging it to the “soups” submenu, he slid his entire hand across the table to turn the page as Kairi settled in beside him.

“Going for the Miso soup, I see.”

“I’m thinking of getting a shot of espresso for the road.”

“I left for two weeks,” Kairi complained suddenly. “That doesn’t mean you get to call the D6/D12 supplement ‘espresso.’ It’s not real espresso.”

“Have you ever had real espresso?”

“Do you even know what an espresso is?” she shot back.

“It’s coffee.”

“Which is?”

“Tea, but with… parsnips?” He finalized his order with a particularly indignant rapping of his knuckle against the table.

Turning to her plate, Kairi shrugged. “Points for originality.”

Finally, Sora’s eyes laid upon her plate, widening comically. “That’s-”

“Still alive, I think,” Kairi mused, poking it with a chopstick.

The seagull suddenly squawked, shuffling as it woke. It peered at her angrily. Then, with another indignant screech, it took off into the air before careening into one of the wide windows overlooking the desert.

Chopsticks were unceremoniously tossed to the table. “So, looking forward to the eight days of doom, my baby Sophomore?”

“We’re the same age.”

“Yeah, but I entered sooner than you.”

Sora frowned, but shrugged. “Not really. You’ve told me enough horror stories that I’m both disturbed and disillusioned by what they could entail.”

“Lots of sand.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Tons of sand.”

“I get it, there’s sand.”

“It falls out of your underwear for weeks.”

In the distance, the seagull squawked.

**-T-M-**

“INDIVIDUALS WHO QUALIFY FOR THE ANNUAL FITNESS EXAMINATION PLEASE REPORT TO GYM-C FOR YOUR SWAB. I REPEAT-”

Shifting nervously from foot to foot, Sora glanced nervously at the line winding around the edge of the hallway. Students in various stages of dress leaned against textured glass walls.  As he approached the end of the line, he fidgeted nervously with the length of his tie, rising up on his tip toes in an attempt to peer over the heads of the students, humanoid and otherwise.

“You a sophomore?”

Sora jumped, spinning in place to turn his eyes on a blond mess behind him. “Uh.”

The man shrugged and his shirt tugged at his arms where the sleeves had been sloppily cut at the elbow. “You can always tell the noobs apart from the rest. Nervous. Peering over everyone else to see…” He brought his hands up, eyes going wide as he fluttered his fingers outwards. “... ‘the machines.’”

“That’s…” Brown eyelashes fluttered, surprised.

A large, pale hand extended before him in offering. “I’m Myde,” the man announced. His voice was a high tenor, squeaking at the edges.

“Sora,” he replied hesitantly.

“Sora – like Cid’s Little Protege Sora?” Drawing his hand back, a disarming grin slid across Myde’s face. “Awesome.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“It’s what people call you, though.”

“Please don’t.”

“Anyway, don’t worry. You only fail the Soul Weight Attunement Biometer test if you’re practically a Heartless.”

Peering up at the man skeptically, Sora shifted to lean casually against the wall. “And how would you know that?”

Bending at the knees, vibrant blue eyes stared into his, opened wide to put the whites on display. “Experience.”

“You are very strange.”

“So I’m told,” Myde shrugged. Raising a hand, he pointed behind Sora with a nudge of his head.

The mechanic turned quickly, eyes laying on the line that had drifted away from them. Striding forward, he stopped at the new end with a sigh.

“You really shouldn’t stress about it.”

Turning sharply, Sora’s eyes turned on the man just beside his ear, staring at the provocative grin with something akin to annoyance. “Knock it off.”

Myde leaned back, grinning. “I’m just messing with you. Seriously, though, there’s nothing you have to worry about. They use the SWAB test to make sure you aren’t going to go all dark side. You don’t strike me as a dark side kind of guy.”

“Then what kind of guy do I strike you as?”

A pale hand settled on an equally pale chin. “Well, you’re really short and have hair down to your butt, so maybe a hippie?”

“Hippie?”

Myde waved a hand dismissively. “I’m from earth. Ignore me.”

Sora’s eyes widened fractionally. He turned quickly away, focusing his eyes on the far wall. Beyond it, figures moved. They hustled about, exchanging things; passing them hand from hand. The color was long in translations, leaving them as shadows against the nearly opaque textured glass.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. Jesus, we might as well call it ‘the E word’ at this point. Everyone gets like this.”

Hustling forward to meet the back of the line, Sora turns his gaze to the machines looming in the distance as they round the corner into the mouth of the Gymnasium doors.

Behind him, Myde nervously ran a hand through his messy blond hair, cursing under his breath.

“Oh no.”

Looking up sharply, Myde peered around Sora curiously. “What’s up?”

“It’s Professor Vossler.”

Myde frowned. “The Phys. Ed. teacher?”

As if on cue, the line was ushered forward, dissipating in seconds. They hurried up to the front. The long line of egg shaped machines stretched along the lines of the Gym, glittering beneath the flickering fluorescent lights.

Sora looked up. “That probably needs to be replaced.”

“Name.”

The mechanic jumped, eyes turning on a beast of a man. “Irino, Sora,” he squeaked.

Myde’s face did a thing.

“Machine three is free for a humanoid,” Vossler drawled, fingers picking through pages on a clipboard. He nudged his head in the direction of an open Egg down the row, near the far side of the room.

Shoulders slumping, Sora nodded before trudging quickly down the line. Egg after Egg he passed, built of sturdy, thick metal.

Myde eased up to Vossler with a sly grin. “Hey, Mr. V.”

“Myde.”

“What’s the beef with Sora?”

Vossler looked up, confused, before murmuring, “He is the singularly least talented student I have ever had the dissatisfaction of teaching.”

Blond eyebrows arched. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

“I’m not saying it to his face, am I?”

Down the rows, Sora stared up at the Egg with open trepidation. His fingers twitched nervously at his side, tanned digits taking hold of the hem of his jacket. He reached for the badge hanging from his neck, sliding it firmly through the car reader on the front of the Egg. A seam on the Egg popped open, and stairs drew from the inside. His eyes turned to the steps. A trail of trepidation rose along his spine. Slowly, he lifted a leg. Slowly, he stepped into the Egg. Slowly, the door began to close.

Settling into a small, worn seat at the back of the machine, Sora’s eyes turned up to stare awkwardly at the small light at the top of the Egg.

“Please remain still,” a pleasant voice commanded.

Sora jumped, glancing around nervously for speakers.

“Please remain still,” it parrotted.

Settling further into the seat, the boy glanced nervously around the Egg, eyeing the exposed wires snaking along the walls skeptically. “Okay.”

“A light will flash,” it continued sweetly. “Please focus on your breathing. Assuming you are a standard humanoid, breathe in for four seconds, hold for four seconds, and exhale for four seconds.”

Pink lips parted on command. Breath hissed in and out nervously.

In an instant there was light. It radiated from his chest, brilliant and sharp. Sora’s eyes widened as reds and yellows dappled the door, joined by blues, greens, and purples. They flashed and swirled around the wires, illuminating them as if Sora were a pond reflecting the light of the moon. Occasionally shapes would form in the dapples. They shifted oddly, and yet were instantly familiar as they reflected in his eyes.

And then he watched, in utter shock, as a single, malformed shadow slid across the door.

The lights silenced; replaced a single, solitary red.

Alarms sounded, and within seconds the door was falling open, revealing to him the sullen expression of Professor Vossler.

“Congratulations,” the beast announced dully, tugging a thin sheet of paper from the bottom of his clipboard. “You have been deemed a liability.” He passed it to Sora, who stared at it in open shock. “Report to Master Aqua’s office immediately for the terms of your probation. Don’t bother showing up for the exams.”

**-T-M-**

“As you probably already know, once you are put on probation it becomes very difficult to graduate.”

“Yes, Master Aqua,” Sora murmured softly.

Sitting across from the boy, the distance spanned by a wide, neat desk, a woman with short blue hair sat primly in a large chair. Her eyes were sharp, hands steady as they reached for a pen. Creases dappled her eyes and mouth, betraying her age. Tapping the pen lightly against a sheet of paper, she hummed quietly in acknowledgement. “We have a class specifically for students who fail the SWAB, if you have time. It looks like your schedule is rather full as it is.” Hey eyes narrowed. “It says here you have been double blocked for failing introduction to Physical Education.”

The mechanic popped two fingers into the air. “Twice,” he corrected.

“You failed it twice,” she murmurs, looking him in the eye. “Is there any particular reason?”

“I’m just… not any good. At running, or jumping. Moving in general. I just feel like I’m...”

“Clumsy?” Aqua suggested.

“Too small.”

The woman nodded slowly, peering down at his paperwork with a critical eye. “Well, how about this? We drop Physical Education until next semester, and I change that double block of Holo Room time to a single block?”

Sora’s head bobbed softly, face turning to the floor as his cheeks burned red. “That would be a big help.”

“Then it’s settled.” Her pen scratched across the paper, circling and crossing out a few choice sections before shuffling it to the side and dragging her thumb across her desk. Lines shone suddenly, program icons lining up like neat, colorful ducks. “I’ll send a hardcopy to your PHS, along with the outline for your probation.”

“Thank you ma’am.”

Glancing up from the desk, the woman fixed him with a smile. “You don’t have to worry about it too much. It’s alright,” she informed him sweetly, mouth curling into a warm grin. “You’re not in trouble. You just need a bit of extra attention for a bit. Go ahead back to your dorm. Spend the evening how you like – classes don’t resume for another week.”

Rising carefully to his feet, Sora nodded weakly. “Yes, Master Aqua.” Shuffling around his chair, he steps slowly up to the door. The handle is cold in his hands. Solid metal. As his fingers slip around the base to grip it, Aqua’s voice rises from behind him.

“Sora?”

He turns fractionally, toes pointed firmly towards the door.

A nervous edge tints the corners of her smile. “I have a feeling you’ll enjoy your new class.”

Twisting the handle, Sora let himself into the hallway with a grimace.

**-T-M-**

"Interesting."

"How is failing the SWAB and being put on probation interesting?”

Leaning forward into Sora’s personal space, forehead drawing uncomfortably close to another, a man with flat blond hair looked him over critically, sharp green eyes flicking from the boy’s chin to his hair. “You bear none of the usual signs of your Light being consumed,” he drawled. “Silly word, Light. A bit cheesy, though admittedly appropriate.”

Sora edged incrementally away, his back sliding against the solid glass dome of a vast machine. It was ringed with curving steel and paired with a single control board. Tubed arms reached from its center into the corners of the room, leading into large metal containers drilled into the floor.

“Your hair follicles have not widened or degraded, nor has your skin become taut against your skull.” The blond nodded, as if consenting. “Though, admittedly, those are long-term effects, as opposed to short-term.”

Sora’s eyebrows arched dramatically. “What are the short term effects?”

“Delusions of grandeur.”

For a long second, they stood in silence.

“Is that it?” Sora asked, incredulous.

The man hummed. “The majority of the times Darkness exposure takes place, and is discovered at this stage, individuals involved tend to aim their efforts more towards reversing the effects rather than studying them.”

“Dr. Even,” a voice called.

Sora’s head flew around, observing a small man in the corner of the room. Blue eyes peered from beneath thin, sharp eyebrows. A series of clips were buried into the lengths periwinkle hair, keeping it up and out of the way of a small, delicate face.

“I hope,” the smaller man continued, “that you intend to allow Mr. Irino to continue his work, today.”

“Yes, yes, of course Ienzo,” Dr. Even drawled, tone sharp. “Odin forbid we give Cid’s Protege five minutes rest.”

Sliding away from the glass dome, Sora eased over to a pile of wires in the corner. “Please stop calling me that,” he murmured under his breath, snatching up a set of pliers. “Please, please stop calling me that.”

Across the room, a pair of blue eyes watched Sora closely as he gathered wire. But as the mechanic rose to his feet, they turned away. Focussed instead on a clipboard.

And then Sora’s eyes turn on Ienzo. As if compelled, his gaze trailed along the length of the man’s jawbone; a smooth line from ear to chin. Soft and oddly bare of any sharp angles. The skin, fair with a tinge of pink health, was dusted occasionally by pale blue stubble, accentuating a small, pinkish mouth. It was turned in a lazy scowl. Upper lip thick, bottom lip thin; twisted downwards at the edges as if gravity disagreed with them.

Turning away, the mechanic settled the wire spool in place before he reached up, looping his hair into a loose bun and twisting it into a tie. It came partially undone as he pulled his hand away. Entire sections falling apart, draping the side of his face and pooling across his shoulder. Dropping to his knees, he settled himself upon a board on the floor. Wheels squeaked as he slid beneath a console. His eyes squinted, adjusting to the dark underbelly of the machine from the stark white of the padded, soundproof room. His arms drew to the tool belt at his waist, snatching a perfect, compact sphere from a pocket before settling it beside his head, tapping it against the floor lightly. Light flooded between his fingers, flickering like a candle. It spilled from the small ball like a meek, hesitant promise. Turning his eyes to the machine, Sora got to work.

**-T-M-**

An hour passed in relative silence; the clipping and clamping of wires a melodic background to an otherwise silent room. But from the peace came an interruption. The steady “knock, knock, knock” of a hand rapping lightly against the hollow top of the console.

Settling the last of a set of wires into place, Sora’s feet slapped soundly against the padded floor, dragging him out from beneath the control board. He peered around, curious, before turning his gaze to the man before him. “Where’s Even?”

“He left,” Ienzo replied simply. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of the clipboard.

Curious eyes followed the movement, narrowed in confusion.

“I was wondering,” the apprentice continued, winning back the boy’s attention, “if you would take a look at these blueprints. Double check them, you could say.”

Sora opened his mouth, and out came a choked noise akin to a baby bird. He cleared his throat nervously. “Yeah. That’s- yeah. No problem.” Hands snapping quickly against the floor, he rose unsteadily to his feet, knees shivering weakly for a fraction of a second. He held his hand out for the clipboard, an eager grin fighting its way across his face as the smaller man passed it his way.

Ienzo tapped a section of the page, lips a thin line, before announcing, “You should pay special attention to the insulation.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Long, tan fingers slipped across the page, dragging along the printed lines. A small itch formed as his hand brushed the paper, unused to anything beside smooth fabric, tools, and waxed tabletops. He tapped his pointer finger against a small tube leading out from the center of the machine on the page – a mirror of the one beside him. “You’ve made this really inconsistent. Whatever you have in the tanks, the dome is designed to keep it in. The tubes aren’t.

“I always assumed you were going to add something in later. Have me weld in some reinforcements. Maybe even replace them. I’m guessing that wasn’t the plan?”

“We didn’t have the munny for higher quality tubes,” Ienzo replied lightly. “Our budget here is, in a word, limited. We have unlimited access to wire, sand, and tempered glass, but that’s about where the convenience ends. Dr. Even has been considering the option of obtaining a patron elsewhere.”

Sora pursed his lips, staring awkwardly down at the clipboard. “I hope you don’t,” he murmured.

“What was that?” the apprentice prompted.

“Nothing,” he replied. Tapping the blueprint lightly, he glanced up at Ienzo with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Why not just replace it with glass? Whatever you’re going to contain in the dome is going to be held back by the same thing. You could detach the frame and add your insulation that way.”

Ienzo leaned closer, observing the clipboard critically.

Eyes widening sharply, Sora fought to remain still as the older man stepped firmly into his personal space. White, slightly crooked teeth slipped out to clamp nervously down on a suddenly trembling lip, and lung fought for sharp, excited breaths. Instead, the mechanic pulled back as periwinkle hair drew suddenly close, soft strands gently brushing the tip of his nose. There was a whisper of scent. Something sharp. Something warm. Lashes fluttering closed, Sora took a deep, secret breath.

It almost smelled like a storm. Or part of a storm.

In an instant, the apprentice was leaning away. “It should work,” he announced skeptically, attention fixed on the clipboard, “but I’ll see if I can run some tests in the Holo Room later.”

Sora blinked, coming back to himself, and nodded quickly. “Yeah. A simulation would probably be best. Do you need any help?”

“I’ll be fine,” Ienzo insisted, turning to face the younger man with a drawn look of boredom. “You should go to one of the Holo Rooms as it is. You are double-blocked, are you not?”

“Just single, now. I can skip some days,” the mechanic insisted lightly. “It’s no problem.”

The apprentice sighed. “Just because you can skip something doesn’t mean you should.” Turning on his heel, he approached the door, slapping the clipboard face-down on a small desk on the way.

“What are we working on, anyway?” Sora asked as the older man dragged the door open, poised to leave the room. “We’ve been building this since I was assigned to you guys.”

Without turning from the hall, Ienzo shook his head. “Sorry,” he announced firmly, “but you don’t have the clearance to know that.” Before his words could process, he strode out the door and away from Sora, footsteps echoing through the empty space.

The boy watched him leave, eyes following periwinkle hair as pale fingers tugged pins from long fringe. And as Ienzo turned a corner, Sora managed to catch the sight of bangs falling naturally over half a delicate face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Bonus  
> A conversation between a writer and their editor:
> 
> "What does lightning smell like?"  
> "You don't know? … You know, it doesn't occur to me that most people haven't been nearly struck by lightning. Okay, so I was really close to a bolt of lightning once, because I love being out in thunderstorms, and one hit a tree about a dozen feet from me. There's the smell of the rain, the smell of the dirt rising up into the air, the smell of the tree, the smell of ozone, and then there's the lightning. It's like a wave of fresh heat, but in smell form."  
> "I don't think being nearly hit by lightning is worth knowing what it smells like."  
> "It was awesome, though."


	2. Remedial Light

Maunder, eleven years after the Birth By Sleep incident:   
A journal entry by Master Aqua 

_I often wonder how things would have turned out if I had followed Terra into the Darkness those many years ago. Would I have reached him? Would he have survived the incident as himself, and not the apprentice Xehanort? Should I have recognized him as the Master sooner?_

_There are so many 'what if's in my life that I'm beginning to wonder if things were meant to turn out the way they did._

_Sometimes I wish that what had happened to me had resulted in amnesia, just as they had with our foe and ringleader. To this day Xehanort remains, somewhere just beyond the front lines where we may never reach. And yet there is hope; Terra's legacy is strong and fearless. He may be the ray of hope we have been waiting for in this long, tiring war._

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter Two: Remedial Light**

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth By Sleep incident; 

When the week came to an end and classes resumed, Sora emerged from his room with a groan of anguish before setting off down the hall by dragging his shoulder along the walls. The glass tugged at his shirt, texture drawing it in at the arm to tug at his torso. Drawing his PHS out of his pocket, Sora flipped it open at stared at the screen, and with an unamused twinkle in his eye he tapped at the “Academy Class Navigator” App. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a set of earbuds, plugged them into the PHS, then popped them in his ears.

After a second of loading, the App pinged.

“Good Morning, Sora,” it greeted, small Moogle mascot waving to him from the screen. “Your first class of the day is ‘Remedial Light.’ Do you need directions, kupo?”

“Yes,” he replied darkly.

“Great! From where you are, proceed left down your next hallway, kupo.”

Dragging himself along the walls, Sora made the turn with little effort, head falling to his shoulder to drag against the cool, rounded corner with excessive laziness.

To his right, a pair of students made their way down the hall, uniforms neat and clean.

The shorter one frowned, then turned to their companion to whistle something into the pronounced hole of an intake valve.

Their companion turned its eye on Sora, then looked away pointedly.

Sora continued down the hall, mouth drawn sharp at the corners. His feet shuffled along the carpet, boots slapping the floor with particular indignation.

“Great job, kupo!” the moogle congratulated him. “Now proceed to the right and continue up the stairs until you reach the ninth floor.”

Gaze turning sharply to the PHS, Sora’s eyebrows rose. “The ninth…” He trailed off, attention turning to the door before him. Reaching for the lanyard hanging about his neck, he slid his ID firmly through the card reader beside the glass. It was stark black against the whitish textured glass. The light flashed twice before turning green. At its side, the door popped open.

The stairwell was wide and constantly turning; glittering in what little sunlight peeked through layers and layers of glass. Sora’s foot landed on the first round. It stuck solid to the slick surface, spells of balance and sure-footedness keeping it firmly in place. And as he ascended, he glanced down towards his feet, habit driving him. There, beneath hundreds of meters of solid, spelled glass, was a gentle glimmer. An inner light that seemed omnipresent in the entire building. There, far below his feet, it was stronger. Brighter.

A deep, calming breath eased through Sora’s chest, and a smile tugged at his lips.

Ascending the steps in earnest, he made his way to the ninth floor.

The second floor passed without note, as did the third, fourth, and fifth, the walls and floors glowing brighter with the sun as he went. He spared the doors leading into their levels little note as students passed through them freely, their IDs sliding quickly through the card readers and allowing them access to floors they had clearance to. As he ascended to the sixth floor he drew to an abrupt stop, mouth falling open in surprise. Stair had given way to floor. Two sections that split into two passageways, leading to two separate steel doors.

The moogle in his App remained silent.

“Is this some sort of test?” he mused to himself, glancing between them. “You’re probably the stairwell.” Striding up to the door on his left, shoes echoing against the glass, he grabbed at his badge and slid it through the card reader sandwiched between the handle and the wall. Blinking twice, the small red light flashed green, and the door popped open. Grabbing it with a noise of triumph, Sora strode through, closing it quickly behind him.

There, across the way, was another set of stairs. They wound just as the last did, and when the mechanic peered down he could see the blurred shadows of people walking up and down on lower levels. Turning his eyes up the stairs, he continued forward with a nervous thumping in his chest. No more unexpected doors interrupted his ascension. As he came up onto the ninth floor, where the steps came to an abrupt stop, he faced the floor access door with little in the way of trepidation. Sliding his ID firmly through the card reader, he waited patiently for the system to approve him before the lock popped open, allowing him access. He strode through the door with a firm grin. It dropped as his eyes lit upon the far wall and his feet drew to an abrupt halt.

Across the hall, a man reclined casually against the glass. His sharply spiked hair shot out behind him like a dark statement. And when Sora dared to take another step, warm yet bitter blue eyes turned on him. “You must be Sora.”

“Uh…” The boy cleared his throat, fingers clenching nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Waving a hand vaguely in invitation to follow him, the man stepped away from the wall, heading off down a corridor to his left that lead further into the ninth floor.

Sora jumped to follow, glancing nervously about the naked hallways. There were no shadows to be seen. No vague figures moving beyond thick layers of glass. The whistle of the forced air – climate control – was sharper, nearly deafening. “I, uh, guess it must be hard to keep this part of the school cool,” the mechanic joked lightly.

Sharp eyes turned to him, appraising.

“Because it’s so close to the sun without… something to filter it… you know?”

The man turned away without comment, proceeding through a large glass door with a swipe of his ID.

As Sora came up on his companion, he caught a glimpse of the badge, name drawing out from the card reader.

Fair, Zack.

“Follow the strange man, Kupo.”

Glancing down at his PHS, Sora eyed the cartoon moogle in surprise. Turning off the app, he slapped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket.

Zack strode quickly through the door, motioning weakly for Sora, who hopped after him nervously. As they passed through the hall, approaching the outskirts of the building, the sunlight grew stronger from one side. It was warm; almost gentle. But as they drew further away from the staircase it grew near to blinding, making the plaque beside a single door shine painfully.

Room 905

Damsels and You

Villains and Vicegrips

Remedial Light

“You know,” Zack began lightly, drawing Sora’s attention away from the plaque. “I don’t teach that often. Haven’t taught this a class in two years. And that should probably tell you how serious this is.”

“Aqua told me not to worry about it,” the boy argued, chest swelling with something akin to annoyance.

Turning to him with a dry expression, Zack shook his head. “You’re going to anyways, so there’s no use lying.” Sliding his badge through the card reader beside the plaque, the man strode through the door, leaving the boy to panic in the hallway.

There were no words. Nothing came from Sora for a few long moments aside from a distressed whimper. Following the man slowly into the classroom, he bit his lip as he saw the Egg sitting innocently across the room.

“We will begin every class with some exercises.” Rounding the length of a wide desk, Zack – Mr. Fair – motioned toward the room bare of chairs and equipment with one hand. “Followed by a bit of reading and a scan at the very end. This will occasionally change, but for the most part our classes will follow this pattern.”

Striding into the empty room, Sora took a seat partially off to the side. The glass was warm; almost hot. It was a soothing itch beneath his crossed legs. Shifting against the solid, uncomfortable surface, he stared up at his apparent teacher with a blank expression.

And for a long while, nothing happened.

“Uh, sir?”

“Yes?”

“The exercises?”

“Eh.” Mr. Fair’s tanned hand waved dismissively. Reaching beneath his desk, he presented a single mirror. “There’s only the two of us. Let’s have some fun.”

“Have…” Sora frowned. “Fun? This is a probationary class.”

“It’s very simple,” the older man announced, pushing the mirror forward on the desk pointedly. “First, look into this mirror.”

“Um…”

“Come on up here!”

Rising unsteadily to his feet, Sora carefully moved forward to the desk, peering first at Mr. Fair, then the mirror. “Okay,” he mumbled. “What now?”

Settling into a chair, the teacher nodded firmly. “What do you see?”

Shrugging, the boy glanced up to meet sharp blue eyes. “My face.”

“Ah, ah.” Mr. Fair wagged a finger, shaking his head. “Think about it. Think about it really hard.”

Sora blinked, eyebrows arching with mild surprise. “What-”

“Just look.”

“O… kay.” Turning back to the mirror, the mechanic stared pointedly at his reflection. And for a long moment, he saw nothing. Then, as his eyelashes fluttered in a blink, he spotted movement behind him. And as his eyes opened he screamed.

Behind him, Mr. Fair pulled his cheeks apart with his fingers, placing his teeth on display to make a foul face at Sora.

“What are you doing?”

Rising from his crouch, the teacher snorted, fingers drawing away from his cheeks with a dismissive wave. “The eyes are the window to the soul, you know.”

“Wha…” Sora shook his head, turning back to the mirror, then to Mr. Fair, face flushed. “What are you talking about?”

A tanned finger drew upward, thoughtfully tapping a quirked chin. “You’re way too stiff, kid. Don’t tell me you’re like this with your friends.”

The boy shook his head, blinking curiously. “What does being stiff have to do about anything?”

“You gotta relax,” Mr. Fair insisted. “When we’re nervous insecurities find a way into the cracks. Same goes for when you’re sad or angry. But insecurity is a very special kind of Darkness. The longer it goes unchecked, the harder it is to notice.”

“So… this is a self esteem class?”

“This is Remedial Light,” the teacher drawled. “The objective is to ‘Lighten Up.’”

“You did not just say that.”

“I did.”

They stood in silence for a while, and Sora glanced back to the Egg curiously. Turning back to Mr. Fair, he motioned towards it with a shrug. “So how does that thing work?”

“What?”

“The Egg,” Sora clarified softly. “How does it work?”

Mr. Fair scoffed. “What makes you think I know?”

“You teach the class, don’t you?”

For a long second the teacher stared at him curiously. “Touché,” he drawled. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his PHS.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking it up.”

“You really don’t know?”

“You’re the mechanic,” Mr. Fair shot back.

“Fish,” Sora mused.

The teacher’s head shot up. “Did you just say ‘fish?’”

“Uh… Yeah.”

Sharp blue eyes remained on the boy for a brief, tense second before turning resignedly back to the PHS, tanned fingers tapping swiftly at the screen. “Weird kid,” he murmured, navigating through the menu. “So, theoretically speaking, there are lights inside the Egg. Special lights that sort of interact on a different plane than we do. And when they land of people, light happens. The more Light, the more color. The more Darkness, the less color. And, if the Darkness is really bad, you see shadows. That’s when you’re considered a risk.”

“But it can’t take over if you’re happy, right?” Sora insisted.

“Staying happy isn’t realistic,” Mr. Fair replied solemnly.

“Then how do you fight it?”

Turning back to his desk, the teacher slid his hand along the polished surface. He rounded the corner with a sigh before settling into his chair. “You slay your demons,” he mused quietly. “But how you slay them counts more than anything else. And then, maybe, you’ll find a balance.”

“A balance of what?”

“Of Light and Darkness.”

**-T-M-**

“Hand me the wire stripper.”

“Which wire stripper?”

“The one covered in yellow gummi paint.”

“Oh.” Reaching nonchalantly for a blob of yellow nestled among a small puddle of wires, Lilo passed it to the hand outstretched from beneath the gummi ship with a sly grin. “It’s nice of you to do this for me.”

“That attitude is only going to get you so far,” Sora drawled from beneath the ship. “Your munny will take you the rest.”

The girl shrugged, leaning against the ship with a happy grunt. “What can I say? Including a labor fee makes me seem more important to investors.”

“Of course it does.”

“You’re just jealous of my Super Saiyan Swag.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Sora hissed, foot twitching distractedly. Beneath the shit, his fingers carefully gripped a small, yellow wire, guiding it into the opening of a small clamp. “- but let’s settle for ‘a little bit, but mostly on 火曜日.’”

“On what now?”

“火曜日.”

Lilo’s eyes screwed up, eyes narrowing at twisted slacks skeptically. “Let’s just assume I know what that is and drastically change subjects. How’s probation going?”

“It’s probation,” Sora admitted between soft grunts, knees bobbing as his thighs clenched and unclenched. “Teacher’s a bit strange. Class is weird even by school standards. Not much to say.”

“Weird good or weird weird?”

“A little of both, and we’re the only ones in the room.” Hand drawing out from beneath the ship, Sora dropped the yellow wire strippers to the floor before retreating. “It made me think of this saying we used to have back home – ‘Hammer down the stake that sticks up.’”

Dark eyebrows drew together sharply. “That’s either a safety thing or something bad.”

The mechanic shifted, shoes patting at the floor before he grew still. “It’s a lot of things,” he informed her quietly. “If you are an individual and succeed, you will meet with criticism as you rise. It can also mean those who don’t conform will be judged and beaten into their place by society. It’s widely accepted that you can achieve more as a group than as an individual. If you keep your head down, nothing bad will happen to you.””

“Jeez. Harsh.”

“There’s this other form of the saying, though; 出る杭は打たれるが、出すぎた杭は打たれない.”

“You lost me.”

“Basically, ‘the stake that sticks out will be hammered down, but the stake that sticks out too much will not.’ If you are successful in your endeavors – if you rise above the criticism – you will change things. Big things. Those are the people who make history.”

“So what? You think probation is some sort of divine test?”

“It could be. Who knows?”

Lilo snorted. “God. Duh.”

“Which one, though?”

“You are taking this far too seriously.”

From beneath the ship, a laugh bubbled quietly into the room. “Yeah,” the mechanic admitted softly. “Yeah, I guess I need to chill out a bit.”

“So, happier topic,” Lilo announced suddenly. “Pick a card; any card.”

“Do you think we could make one of those Eggs?” the mechanic inquired abruptly.

Eyebrows drawing together sharply, dark eyes turned on the boy with blatant confusion. “Eggs?”

“The ones from the exam. You climb in them and they test your Darkness levels. Do you think it’s possible to make the technology smaller?”

“Of course it’s possible,” Lilo drawled. “Aside from the fact that we just don’t have the resources here. Shipments of Gummi blocks and access to the Kiln for glass are one thing; a material that imitates Light on a wavelength that impacts and reacts to your soul is something else entirely. You’d probably need to artificially create Light itself.”

“I’m guessing that’s really hard.”

“Imagine how you felt when you first laid eyes on Calculus.”

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“Ouch.”

A silence settled over the room, broken occasionally by the shouts of another group fumbling with some wire on the other end of the hangar. They rolled out the length, arguing and hissing and spitting half-hearted insults as toes were stubbed and fingers jammed.

“I wonder if there was a way to go around the issue entirely and make the results visible,” Lilo murmured. “As things stand, the Egg can only give us the scientific equal of a Yes or No answer. Imagine actually being able to see the makeup of Light and Darkness in the body – like an EEG scan. To see your soul.”

“You mean like looking at yourself in the mirror?”

“What?”

“You know – the eyes are the windows to the soul.”

“That…” Lilo trailed off softly.

Feet slapping the ground in an off-kilter beat, Sora wheeled himself out from beneath the ship with a sigh. “Think we could ask Dr. Even about it?”

“Who?”

“One of the resident Scientists in the lab,” he replied evenly. “You don’t know?”

“Who does? Aside from his apprentice, you’re the only one getting any lab time. Apparently only Cid’s Little Protege is good enough.”

Sora sighed. "How long do you think it’s going to take for that nickname to run its course?"

"Depends.”

“On what?”

“When do you plan on graduating?"

“Back on subject,” the  mechanic groaned, filthy hand drawing up to drag across his forehead with exasperation. “We need to get some Egg blueprints. It might give us some hints.”

“Have you looked it up in the database?”

“Honestly, I just came up with this.”

**-T-M-**

Striding casually out the yellow flaking hangar doors, Sora turned into shimmering the glass hallway. High above, a single sun shone down on the school, while another slowly sunk beneath the dip of the horizon, setting the building ablaze with a reddish glimmer. Making his way down the hallway, he passed a murder of raven-haired first years attempting to scrape a dilapidated section of carpet away from the glass floor beneath. Sora hopped carefully over the rolled section as he passed. “Keep up the good work,” he called behind him.

They cheered back with sarcastic words of thanks.

Rounding a corner, Sora brandished his ID, sliding it through the card reader and popping the stairwell door wide open. He jogged to the rows of steps, taking two at a time as he descended. The thin shoulder of his blazer brushed the inside wall as he passed. On his way down, a group of fourth years drew up, squeezing past him with murmured apologies and one enthusiastic high twelve that was returned with an equally hearty high five.

As he turned the final corner, stairs giving way to the solid glass of the first floor staircase, his eyes turned to the ground. There, in the distance, glittered the far off light. With a hop to his step, he turned back to the corridor, sliding his ID through the card reader beside the thick glass door. It popped open with a single beep.

A number of students milled aimlessly about the floor, gossiping lightly as Sora passed. Bare few acknowledged him with small greetings, so absorbed in their conversations.

The cafeteria was in mayhem.

Drawing into the wide room, Sora scanned the aisles for a clear path. His eyes were met with shifting, squeezing bodies and clustered conversations. The sound echoed throughout the room, nearing deafening. His shoulders drew back, lips pursing as he took a brave step forward into the crowd. Squeezing through the aisles, he pushed through to the far side of the room. He broke through the mass with an unenthusiastic huff. Approaching the drink dispenser, he prodded at the associated panel with a nervous finger.

The screen burst to life without any more prompting.

_Drinks_

_Arabica Drip*, Bat Guano Tea* **, Broiled Triangle, D6/D12 Supplement Shot, Fanta Orange*, Gargle Blaster, Oolong Tea*, Peanut Butter Tribadism*, Seagull Juice**, Water*, Yippie Banana Pants*._

_* - Please be screened at the Medical Center for the 376 associated allergies._

_** - Non-Vegan._

“A tanned finger hesitated over the menu, twitching idly as it paused twice over ‘Gargle Blaster.” But as it went to select it, the attached wrist drew back, then forth, selecting “D6/D12 Supplement Shot.”

The screen gave a ping, and a cup dropped down into the twin prongs inside the dispenser, a stream of clear fluid jutting out from a readily-lowered straw that splashed somewhat calmly into the glass. As the stream came to a halt, the dispenser dinged once more.

Snatching up the glass, Sora turned to face the crowd once more.

**-T-M-**

“Afternoon,” Sora called halfheartedly, striding through the padded door just. In his wake it slides closed, air hissing from the cracks as the atmosphere sealed. Hands falling casually to his sides, they drop his badge to his chest, where it bounces lightly against the light fabric of his shirt. It sits bare on his shoulders, blazer gone from his usual ensemble.

Glancing up from the dome, Dr. Even eyed him, surprised. Tugging the thin wire frames of his reading glasses from his nose, he blinks lightly as his vision adjusts, landing firmly on Sora. “You’re early.”

“Physics 3 was cancelled – professor’s on an assignment and they couldn’t find a sub,” the mechanic supplied lightly. His gaze shot around the room, taking in the flashing lights, bare white walls, and padded floors. “No Ienzo today?”

“No Ienzo, yes.” The doctor nodded lightly. His lips pursed, a slight, insignificant hum escaping as his eyes perused the clipboard before him. It angled against the light overhead, the sphere in the center of the ceiling growing dim with the setting of the second sun. “And I’m about to leave, as well. Think you could handle an afternoon by yourself?”

“I’ll just be wiring. That’ll probably require minimal supervision.”

“As long as you don’t touch the capsules,” Dr. Even reminded him sharply, thin finger wagging towards the reinforced containers spaced throughout the room.

Sora waved him off, glancing momentarily towards the capsules. His attention pulls quickly to the length of tubing drawing out of them, feeding into the large domed machine. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

Nodding firmly, the doctor settled his clipboard beneath one arm. “Good, good.” Rising to his feet, he stepped around Sora to approach the door. But as his hand slid against a small divot in the padding, he turned back to the boy, eyebrows drawn curiously together. “Sora,” he began, words cautious on his tongue, “you are in your final mechanic’s class, are you not?”

Drawing out from beneath the panel, the mechanic blinked up at the man curiously. “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you have friends here?”

“What? I mean – a few. Only Lilo lives here full-time, though.”

“Ah…”

“May I ask what this is about?”

Dr. Even’s eyes shuttered lightly, then fell closed as a small chuckle bubbled up from his chest. “It’s nothing,” he diverted. “Don’t worry about it.”

As his fingers began to curl against the door, a rushed, “Wait,” bubbled from Sora.

Turning back to the student, Dr. Even waited patiently for the boy to continue.

“I was wondering if… if it were possible to possibly…” His eye flickered briefly to the machine before shifting back to the scientist. “The Eggs they use for the SWAB – is it possible to get a hold of the blueprints?”

“I can’t see why not.”

Sora’s eyebrows drew up in open surprise, only to pull back together in confusion. “That was… easy.”

“I’ll see about getting them to you within the week.” Fingers digging into the divot in the padding, the scientist squeezed the wall with intent, smiling firmly as it hissed open. As he stepped through, he offered a small, “Good day,” over his shoulder before departing.

As the door slipped slowly closed in the wake of the scientist, Sora stared after it in relative unease before turning to his work. Approaching the wire coiled in the corner, he leaned forward to take it into his hands, lifting it with a huff of effort onto his shoulder. The coil sagged as he rose. Slim lines attempted to scatter from his fingers to the floor, and a ragged end of a cut section scraped angrily at his arm. He waddled to the dome with a sigh, the lowermost section of coil thumping against the flesh of his thigh with heavy determination.

**-T-M-**

With a gentle clang, a set of wire strippers clattered to the floor from a limp hand.

Sliding out from beneath the console, Sora tossed aside a short length of wire, hissing a curse. He reached quickly into his pocket. Beeping and screaming and vibrating in his hand, his PHS threw a fit as he flipped the device open and silenced the alarm. The air grew heavy as silence reigned, interrupted by a soft whisper of a sigh.

Feet slapping against the padded floor, the mechanic rose to his feet. He blinked as, overhead, the single light set in the ceiling flickered for a brief instant, sending the room into darkness before driving it out with light. He bent forward, collecting the few tools scattered about his workspace before heading towards the door. It opened easily beneath his attentions. Hissed lightly as a gentle breeze burst through from the other side.

The halls were pitch black as Sora stepped out of the lab. Glass walls had gone invisible in the night. Three suns, usually overhead in some fashion, had long set beneath the horizon, leaving the building without the hint of sky light. Hand slipping into the mouth of a bag hanging from his work belt, Sora ruffled around a bit before retrieving a small, perfectly round sphere. He gave it a good shake, wrist twitching back and forth as a steady glow found its home in the core of the ball. The light was gentle. Almost sweet. It spilled into the hall, glimmering in his hand like a beacon. Zipping his work belt closed, the mechanic headed off down the dimly lit hall, fingers extended with the light to lead his way.

Everywhere he looked was barren. Students and teachers were nowhere to be seen, leaving an eerie emptiness to the halls. As Sora made his way away from the room, his eyes raked along the walls. In the distance was the small glimmer of another light. It shimmered through several panes of glass, slowly ascending. It rose slowly, wobbling slightly, before disappearing behind a line of darkness – the line of carpet blanketing the floor above. Turning his attention away from the far off stairwell, Sora took a sharp right to head into a section. A small plaque shone in the light of his sphere before descending into darkness.

303 - SIM Rooms

The steady clip-clop of his shoes slapping against the thin carpet echoed off the sturdy glass walls blackened to a dark soot. As Sora drew up to a door, he took his ID in hand, tugging at the lanyard strapped about his neck to slide it firmly though the card reader beside a solid, metal door.

Inside, the room was black. Dark tiles lined the floor, walls, and ceiling, shining brilliantly in the dim light. A sturdy chair sat in the center, flanked by a control panel and screens. Before it stood a wide pane of glass overlooking a much larger room. Off to his left stood a single supply closet, and Sora strode quickly towards it, allowing the door behind him to slide firmly shut.

Outside, a single red light shone above the entrance. It fell across the hall, glinting off the blackened walls. Beneath it, a single sign shone, barely visible in the light. “In Use.”

Tucking the sphere into his pocket, Sora shrugged out of his jacket. As the fabric slipped casually to the floor, the piping flickered a gentle purple, sending soft shadows across the closet. Tanned arms drew up, sagging beneath an invisible weight. They stuttered as they rose. Fingers closed around a small, round knob, drawing it towards the man to open the supply closet, revealing a handful of vests.

They were thick; brown. Tucked and folded neatly into individual cubbies. As Sora slid one from its container, the rough fabric hissed lightly against the smooth glass of the shelf. He slipped his left hand through the arm hole, dragging it up to his elbow before repeating the action with his right and settling it firmly on his shoulders. As the vest settled into place, the piping shimmered a gentle lavender.

Zipping up the front of the vest, Sora turned to the dark room. He glanced momentarily overhead. Eyed the gently flickering spheres built into the ceiling. Before long he turned his eyes back to the body of the room, striding quickly up to the chair and taking a seat.

“Good Evening Sora,” a voice greeted as the screens burst to life before him. “Please select simulation.”

Glancing between screens, Sora bit his lip.

Battle

Blueprint

Maze

Obstacle Course

His finger hesitated over “Blueprint,” nail shining a brilliant white from the screen’s luminescence. But instead it drew up, selecting “Battle,” accompanied by a gentle exhale.

“Battle selected,” the computer announced softly. “Please select mode.”

A new selection displayed itself, dominating the main screen.

Mode - Accuracy | Power | Battle

Range - Close | Medium* | Long*

Speed - Slow | Moderate | Fast*

Difficulty - Easy | Standard | Proud* | Critical*

Level2 Gap - 10 below* | 5 below* | Same | 5 above* | 10 above*

Zone - City | Town | Forest - Thin | Forest - Thick | Desert | None | Random

Time - Morning | Noon | Evening | Night*

Civilians - None | One* | Five* | Sparse* | Casual* | Busy*

Civilian Action1 - Evacuation Proceedings | Hostile | Panicking | Realistic | Random

Would you like this counted among your probation hours?

Yes / No

[Proceed]

[Randomize]*

* - Locked for this profile.

Tapping quickly through the mostly restricted menu, Sora relaxed into the curve of the chair as the computer revved. The screen threw a pattern of flashes throughout the dark room, scattering the scrambled shadows as they clustered in the corners.

Processing:

Battle Mode | Close Range | Moderate Speed | Easy | Same Level

Random Zone | Morning | No Civilians

Your time here will be counted towards your probationary course.

“Please enter the practice area.”

Sora eased out of his chair as the computer addressed him, settling thick shoes onto dark, shining tiles before making his way quickly to the glass door beside the wide viewing window. Taking hold of the handle, he stepped into the wide room just as the walls melted away, giving rise to a clouded sky and tall, towering buildings. The streets were paved to a smooth, flawless finish, illuminated every few feet by an overhead street lamp.

“Simulation started.” The words echoed through the street, hollow and omnipotent.

Turning his eyes to the ground, Sora scanned the road, squinting at the shadows for movement as, at his side, his empty hand remained at the ready. “Come out,” he whispered lightly. “Come out.” He advanced down the street. Gazing from corner to corner, he scanned the sidewalks suspiciously.

As he passed a street drain, a small smudge buried within the ground shifted and oozed from the hollow cracks. It shivered as it rose. Shook as its bulbous head and thin arms emerged from the depths of the drain. Finally it grew solid, legs quaking as it came into being with a hollow whisper hissing through the air.

Eyes drawing away from the far wall, Sora turned to face the creature. But as his gaze crashed upon the Heartless they grew wide and panicked. Hand falling to his side, his fingers curled around empty air that shimmered briefly before light burst between his fingers. It extended past them, growing in mass and forming an odd shape in the air. Within seconds it grew solid and dark, leaving a large, heavy key hanging in his hand. Bringing it awkwardly into the grasp of both hands, Sora held it out before him as if in warning.

Bare feet away, the Heartless eyed him for a long, tense moment…

… and lunged.


	3. Level One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LANGUAGE NOTE #1: When Sora, Kairi, or Riku are speaking in private they are speaking Japanese. Occasionally you will see Kanji, but it will never be in the scene unless it differs from the main-spoken language. Kanji being used signifies that either the person of focus in the scene does not understand Japanese, that it was a sudden switch from speaking Tantalog, or that the reader isn’t supposed to understand.
> 
> LANGUAGE NOTE #2: The language they speak for the most part is the language used briefly in Lilo and Stitch, Tantalog.

 

Midgar, two weeks after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
A journal entry by Master Aqua 

_It's so strange, maneuvering through the worlds on my own. It seems that after the events that unfolded with Terra and Ventus a lot more worlds are aware of the existence of others. Things are becoming difficult to keep organized. But after what happened it's easy to understand why everyone's running around in a panic. On Midgar they even have a nickname for it. They've been calling it the “Birth By Sleep” incident. It seems the people of that world are far more perceptive than in others. Granted, their city is filled with light and magic, yet holds so much greed. One day I will find a place that does not follow the pattern I have seen; that with knowledge and awareness come grief, fear, and a darkness that is deeper than can be navigated._

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter Three: Level One**

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth By Sleep incident: 

Sora leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the dark creature as its claw crashed into the pavement. The key-like sword in his hand scraped the ground as he moved, grating a long white line into the finish of the blacktop. Turning to face the Heartless, he drew his weapon to eye level, only to fall back as the creature fell onto him. Its arm slammed forward into his wrist, sending the Key clattering to the ground. The boy staggered back, cradling his wrist as it bled sluggishly. His gaze snapped to the blade, then back to the creature before him.

It seemed to be observing him. Small yellow eyes regarded him cautiously. It swayed on its feet as its large head twitched from side to side.

Turning away, Sora started toward the Key at a dead sprint.

From behind there came the briefest hint of a breeze, and then he was on the ground. His breath had rushed out of him in a sickening gasp. The line of his jaw slammed into the floor, leaving a jagged line of road rash in its wake. All around him, the world began to collapse.

Overhead, there came the familiar voice of the computer. “Code 7: Health Critical. Simulation Force Stop. A medic is on their way.”

Sora’s eyes widened as the words faded from the room. His gaze turned sharply to the Key across the way, sitting innocuously still as the simulated world fell to pieces around it. Tanned hands waved frantically in its direction, fingers flicking forward as if to shoo it away. “Go!” he demanded sharply. “隠れる!”

The Key shimmered softly, then began to shine. But even as the light began to fill the room it faded; dying like a candle in a sharp breeze. And in the flickering overhead spheres illuminating the floor, the dark tiles that bore the weapon were bare, the Key vanishing with the flash of light.

Gaze turning to the glass door in the distance, Sora breathed out a relieved sigh as a woman stepped into the observation room.

Her attention turned first to the abandoned seat, then the locker, and finally to the Simulation room itself. Suited shoulders rose, then sagged, before she pushed through the glass door. Long, dark hair trailed to her waist, framing a soft jaw and firm build. “Sora,” she drawled lowly. “Running battle simulations without a partner. Why am I not surprised?”

Sora opened his mouth to reply, but winced as the skin of his jaw tugged at itself.

“Don’t answer that,” she snipped lightly.

**-T-M-**

Legs twitching nervously into the bunched fabric of a tan blanket, Sora shifted against the length of the bed. The cast wrapped about his wrist hissed against the wide page of his textbook. Sliding a finger between the stiff fiberglass and the line of his arm, the boy attempted to wiggle it far enough in to press against an itch.

“Stop scratching,” Kairi warned. Perched atop the uppermost bunk bed, she turned the page of a well loved, dog-eared novel. Displayed proudly on the cover, a scantily clad woman clutched a ruined dress to her chest, barely containing a good deal of cleavage. Tapping a finger against a dry page, Kairi sighed. At her side, sandwiched between the edge of the mattress and the support bars, a slew of similarly covered novels had been jammed into place. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“I’m not going to make it worse.”

“Nani said you would make it worse,” she drawled.

“Nani says everything makes everything worse.”

“Nani says _you_ make everything worse. And she’s right. They don’t put locks on the Sim programs because no one’s stupid enough to enter alone. You need a monitor. It’s the rules. It’s a safety precaution. It’s in place because you are now a sitting duck for several days while a literal crack in your arm fuses itself together with the aid of bare-minimum painkillers, Cure Materia, and _you not scratching it._ ”

Sora glanced up from his cast, fingers playing with the end of a stylus as he guided it into the gap beneath his cast. “How did you even know?” he asked incredulously through the mattress.

“I’m magic. Remove whatever you’ve inserted into your cast.”

“Magic. Ha,” the boy drawled. “What kind?”

“The kind that keeps you out of trouble.”

Slowly, he withdrew the stylus from his cast, turning his eyes to the upper mattress bitterly. “Wipe that smug grin off your face.”

Flopping over the side of the bed, Kairi’s eyes scrunched in tearful mocking. “I’m Sora. I’m a baby,” she cooed with a taunting sob.

Uninjured arm rising into the air with incredulity, Sora scooted sideways off the bed. His boots slapped the floor with a fanfare of noise. “I’m going to the lab.”

As the boy gathered his blazer, gingerly sliding it over the cast, Kairi blinked at him curiously. “What?” she muttered. Her lips went lax, cheeks fluttering down until her entire face was a picturesque expression of nothingness with a hint of confusion in her eyes. “Did I say something?”

**-T-M-**

“You. Yes, you. Are you doing anything?”

Sora blinked. He turned, facing the man who called to him with a smug expression. Slowly, he shrugged.

**-T-M-**

_”Seifer, watch out!”_

_“I got it, I got it!”_

Perched in the wide, cushy chair before the fourth Sim room control panel, Sora peered through the vast window stretching before him. His face twisted, lips tight and eyes marred with jealousy.

“ _Fuujin!”_

A massive Darkside rose above four figures. Yellow eyes glimmered down at them, turning to the smallest.

Rushing forward, a young woman with pale hair took a running leap towards the Heartless, shoes caking it in ice that glittered beneath the dim street lamps. Thick soles collided with a wide, black leg, and the Heartless staggered as she hopped out of range.

“ _Great job, Fuu!_ ”

Turning his attention to the stat screen, Sora glanced over the woman’s stats with a roiling sensation budding in his stomach.

_Fuujin_

_Level 37_

_HP: 22 / 28_

_MP: 5 / 6_

_Strength: 25_

_Defense: 30_

Fuujin was wirey. Her arms were long, legs boney, and torso heavy with a blazer too large for her frame. A single eye peered out from behind a light fringe: red and flanked by an eyepatch.

Sora turned his attention to the others after a while, skimming over their levels and hit points with little care. Raijin, the man with broad shoulders and a square jaw. Everything about him seemed exaggerated. His arms were bulky. Hair gelled into place. His fists would occasionally burst into flame, and he would pummel the Heartless before dodging out of range, taking turns with Fuujin.

Hayner, the third, seemed a bit closer to Sora’s age, and his level was significantly lower. His blond hair had been combed away from his face. It spiked back from his ears. He spent most of the battle on the sidelines, and had yet to make a move aside from a small blizzard spell thrown at the beginning.

Then, finally, there was Seifer.

Tall. Stately. Casually arrogant. Blond hair stuffed beneath a non-regulation beanie that begged to be removed.

Not really moving.

Throughout the course of the battle Seifer had remained perfectly in place, as if his shoes had been cemented to the floor by some magical force. Curious, Sora’s fingers twitched against the console, peering at the man’s stats. But as they filled the screen, Seifer burst into action. His feet slapped the floor, propelling him across the Sim room with surprising speed.

“ _Napalm!_ ”

Fire.

Fire everywhere.

Napalm indeed.

By the time the glass cleared, ventilation system bursting through the room to plow away the smoke that wound through the room, the Heartless was nowhere to be seen. Only the bright shimmer of the simulated world as its fell away and a subtle glitter of light in Seifer’s hand.

Easing forward in the wide chair, Sora tapped the small, foamy microphone experimentally. “Hey, you guys ready for the next level?”

“ _Let us breathe, chickenshit,_ ” Seifer snapped.

Reclining into the curve of his chair, Sora’s fingers laced together lazily against the line of his stomach. “Well, put in your request, soon. You’re being timed.”

“ _Then disable the timer, y’know!_ ” Raijin drawled.

“I don’t have the clearance to do that.”

“ _Oh, wow,_ ” Seifer sneered. “ _Don’t tell me we have an ickle first year back there._ ”

“Second year,” Sora drawled back, fingers tapping along the screen with grim determination. “And let’s see how smug you are with two level fifty Zwill Blades.”

Hayner scoffed. _“Now you’ve done it._ ”

“ _Hey_ ,” Seifer snapped, striding up to the glass even as the artificial world built from the ground, filling the walls with foliage and shooting trees toward the ceiling, narrowly avoiding the foursome. “ _Hey, what’s your name? Do I know you? Have I pissed you off at some point?_ ”

“ _‘Have we slept together?’”_ Hayner mocked, head lolling to the side. Blue eyes fixed on the older man, narrowed amusedly. “ _Focus on the job, man_.”

Seifer turned, eyes sharp, on his teammate.

A single brown eyebrow arched at the two feuding blonds. “As amusing as this all is,” Sora drawled, “incoming in five, four-”

“ _Screw you!_ ” Seifer snapped.

“ _‘You might have already done that_.’”

“-two, one. Have fun.”

“ _Rule number one of Sim Rooms,_ ” Hayner’s voice echoed through the sound of booming subwoofers and two large Heartless rose from the floor, “ _Don’t insult the monitor._ ”

“ _Screw you, Hayner._ ”

“ _Been there, did that. Got the sweat stain. You walked like a duck for days._ ”

“ _Really, Hayner. Screw. You._ ”

“ _Proposition me later. We’ve got a Bogey to worry about._ ”

Fuujin’s arm came up, pointing to the Bogey in question as it materialized. Her voice came, then; a shockingly monotonous, single word that seemed to embody an entire paragraph. _“Incoming.”_

Throughout the exchange, Sora leaned further back in his seat with his eyes screwed shut, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “They,” he muttered softly, “are the hope of the universe.”

An unspoken “spirits help us” floated into the universe and promptly fled in favor of more important situations.

**-T-M-**

“Yup.”

“And then, of course, they set the entire forest on fire. Who sets a forest on fire? Really? I mean, yeah, it’s a simulation, but when you’re in that situation in the real world you can’t just _torch everything_.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And they were arguing about blowjobs, okay? _Blowjobs_ . They’re facing down two level fifty Zwill Blades, the forest is _on fire_ , and they stop to have a conversation about where you put your hands when you’re sucking down a dick.”

“Did you take notes?”

“And then a burning tree fell on the Heartless and the Simulation apparently thought this was a good thing and they _won_ ! They even got an _environment bonus_!” Taking a furious drag on his cigarette, Sora eyed the quickly shrinking butt, expression twisting in confusion as the suddenly short stick.

“Would you like some aloe for that burn?”

“What?”

“What bothers you more: that they’re undisciplined or that they won?”

“Both!”

Turning a page resolutely, Kairi’s eyes lingered over the page, letters elegant beneath her clear lacquered nails.

_“Dearest Guenevere,” Anxigot cooed as her hands slid along the soft, stiff leather of the horse saddle. “Would you like to learn to ride my horse?”_

Sora huffed a mouthful of smoke as he took a quick breath from his cigarette. “I can’t believe-”

“Uh-huh,” Kairi interrupted unconsciously. Under her breath, she added a small, “You’ve got a lo-ot of Remedial Light ahead of you.”

_“I am not sure, My Lord,” Guenevere hummed, feeling a swoon build in her breast. “Surely, your Stallion is too large and powerful for my meager legs to contain.”_

_“Believe me, Lady. Your legs would suit the Stallion’s body well.”_

“Kairi, are you even listening to me?”

“Reading.”

“But-”

“Would you like me to read to you?”

“No. What-”

Kairi cleared her throat. “Guenevere gasps as Lord Anxigot’s hands wound round her hips, lifting her onto his Stallion-”

“ **You’re reading Riku’s books again?** ”

“It’s not as dirty as you think. He’s teaching her to ride a horse.”

“‘A’ horse or ‘his’ horse?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m assuming both since what looks like the entire last half of the book is dog-eared.”

Shifting back against his pillows, Sora shuddered. “Wow, Riku. Wow.”

“Don’t judge. You’re worse.”

“How am I worse?”

“You judge.”

“Who was the person who said they liked me because I didn’t judge?”

“Me, six years ago, when you were thirteen and I was twelve, because six years ago you didn’t judge and two years ago you became a prissy little fish with self esteem issues the moment you found out your best friend had already become one of the most respected and powerful Keyblade wielders in the universe by the time you finished your intensive Applications of Mathematics three year course, which we all knew you could take here in one.”

“Low blow, Kairi. Low blow.”

“‘When an enemy towers before you, aim for the legs,’” she quoted softly, voice oddly disconnected from the words. “Or the balls. Those work too. Anything generally round or fleshy looking.”

“My point in all this,” he whined loudly, “is they should be professional.”

“They have to trust each other with their lives. I imagine that in a small group like that, being ‘Professional’ will only get in the way. Eventually they have to live with each other.”

Sora’s lips fell open in a sneer, and he went to take another drag on his cigarette. But as his lips met the brownish papered filter, nothing came from the end. The cigarette had burned down, leaving nothing left to smoke. Angry fingers stuffed it in his ashtray. “They’re figureheads,” he snapped, grabbing up another cigarette and lighting it with a flick of his fingers. “They are the face of the fight against Darkness. Look at Riku. He wouldn’t…” He trailed off, unsure. Glancing down at his hands, he nervously brought the next cigarette to his lips, taking a long, contemplative drag.

“Wouldn’t.” Kairi prompted in the wake of his silence. “Riku ‘wouldn’t’ a lot of things. He’s not a team player.”

A stillness settled over the room. It sank into the air as if it were the scent of a familiar candle; heavy and sharp. It wasn’t sickly sweet. Wasn’t warm or musky. It resembled instead the taste on your tongue as your realize what you’ve said.

On the bottom bunk, the Mechanic shifted uncomfortably off of his pillow, opting to lie flat against the bed. He stared at the mattress above with half-shuttered eyes that fluttered at odd intervals.

“Tell me,” Kairi whispered after a long while, when Sora’s cigarette had burned out and the room felt yet smaller. “Are you trying to smoke up a storm or a smokescreen? Because even if you try to hide behind it, I can still see how jealous you are.”

Sweaty palm dragging up to press against one lazy eye, Sora took a solitary drag on his cigarette before it ran out completely, ashes falling away and disappearing in the wake of a magical whisper of light.

“Look…” Setting the book down, the woman adjusted herself against the pillow. She stared up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the dark, matte glass with eyes blank and mouth still. Her fingers beat against her pocket; bulging from the shape of a single carton of cigarettes, unopened. “You’re a Mechanic,” she continued softly. “You’re not a Mage. You don’t have a Keyblade. You’re not even going to be on the front lines. You don’t have to worry about how we appear to the world; that’s not your job.

“Just worry about what you need to do. You’ve got to repair ships and houses and water systems. That’s more important. That saves more lives than fighting does. Just because you don’t risk your life to do your job doesn’t mean you can’t be a hero. Individually, you are more important than an entire team. Fighting is easy. Thinking is hard.”

Reaching into his pocket, Sora tugged out his PHS, unlocking it to display his list of classes and a single counter that read “Sim Room Progress: 100%” in the lower left corner. He eyed it critically for a moment, then stuffed it back into his slacks with a sigh. “Thanks, Kairi,” he murmured after a while. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Curling up on his side, the brunet snatched a cigarette from the open pack between the bed and the wall. He placed it between his lips, but made no move to light it. Instead he simply lay there, contemplating and silent.

**-T-M-**

_Don’t worry about it._

The words rang in Sora’s head days later, when the third of Maunder’s suns eased over the sand and filtered through layer after layer of glass. As it began its ascent, the dorms began to shine with a candle-like glow.

Lying on the lower mattress of a bunk bed, his eyes fixed on the beams supporting the empty spot above him, a whisper of an inhale whistled through Sora’s nose. Cigarette smoke. Musty laundry. Aging books. Oil. A hint of Lavender. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Sora stormed out of the room, tugging on his pants and blazer before stepping out into the long glass hallway. Commercial carpets clapped as he strode quickly to the stairs, shirt dangling to his knees and swaying to and fro; ruffled and untucked.

He arrived at the stairwell with little fanfare. Slid his card through the reader as his tongue peeked between his lips, sliding between them and disappearing like a small, cautious bird. The door popped open as it should; smooth and wide. And after Sora strode through it, he took the rows three at a time. Three, six, nine, twelve; each level another clap of regulation boots slapping smooth glass with the aid of surefooted spells.

Very few students passed as he ascended. One carried books; the other bore small globs of colored glass, balancing them precariously in fingerless hands. The second greeted him warmly, third mouth tooting a pleasant ode to the morning in the key of G.

Upon arrival to the third floor, Sora brandished his ID like a weapon, sliding it quickly through the card reader beside the thick glass door. It popped open with little fanfare. Slapping a hand against the wide, flat front, he pushed into the hallway beyond with a slight huff of exertion. For a second, he jumped. It had seemed, for a moment, that the shadows shifting beyond the wall to his left, blurred arms and smudged legs, had morphed into a dark horde with shining yellow eyes.

But as his attention focussed on the mass, he chest calmed, and the anxiety burning his head began to slowly subside.

He moved on, passed a wide open door and stopping for a moment to peer in. A shower of light, turning and falling – sparks. A mass of gray distorted by the walls an almost crystalline white. The door to the gray room was wide; double doors that reached for the ceiling with rails and panels awash in peeling yellow paint. To the right, just above the usual card reader, a plaque sat innocently.

Room 301 | 302

Mechanics 0-4

Gummi Hangar

Sora passed it quickly, striding down the hallway with grim determination. He rounded the corner. Approached a set of rooms whose walls were dark; panelled from the inside, blocking light and shadows from view and sending a dark smudge across the commercially carpeted floor. The Mechanic strode up to one without hesitating, sliding his ID card firmly through the reader and stepping through the suddenly open door.

“Good evening.”

Sora glanced up sharply, peering over at the man bent over a desk across the padded room.

Ienzo’s arms were akimbo; bent at odd angles and hanging there for long seconds.

The Mechanic blinked, eyes screwing up as he peered at his apparent companion across the way, openly confused. “Good… morning?”

Head drawing up, the apprentice fished a PHS from the folds of his lab coat. He flipped open the cover with a curious noise. “So it is.”

“What are you working on?” Closing the door behind him, Sora stepped up to the apprentice’s desk with a slight shrug of his shoulders. It was narrow; tucked into one corner, away from the main grouping of machines and heaps of paperwork. It seemed bare, at first. But as he drew close, the Mechanic’s eyes laid upon a set of regulation underwear; piping stripped to reveal a thin, glimmering core that threw shades of lavender across pale fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Recompense.”

Sora blinked. “Uh. Okay.”

A whistle of a sigh later, Ienzo drew away from the fabric to lean into the back of the chair. He glanced over at Sora with eyebrows furrowed. “Think I could get some input?”

The Mechanic startled, looking between Ienzo and the underwear, surprise plain. “Uh… It depends,” he murmured. “What happened to it?”

“Is that really valid?”

“I have to know in order to figure out the extent of the damage.”

Another whistling sigh later, Ienzo turned back to stare at the underwear in something akin to shame. “A blunt attack from a simulated Darkside.”

Sora’s cast suddenly hugged the flesh of his stomach, drawing close against his side as a small grin lit his eyes. “And here I thought I was the only one getting my ass kicked in the SIM rooms.”

“I didn’t get my ass kicked,” the apprentice snapped. “It was a level 90 Darkside and it just got a lucky shot in. Now help me with this.”

“Level…” Sora stared. “Level _90_?”

“This is a kevlar knit spelled for flexibility, durability, and not scraping your skin off like a file when you run. You really think anything lower than a level 70 can disrupt the integrity of the construction?” he continued sharply.

“Well-”

“Don’t lump me in with you.”

A sharp, awkward silence fell between them as the words settled into place. Ienzo’s face remained somewhat twisted; eyebrows knit and lips a thin, cruel line.

Slowly, Sora’s mouth drew up to hiss a long, quiet breath that filtered through his teeth. “I don’t exactly go around testing how high a level a soul stealing monster has to be to rip through enhanced kevlar,” he began slowly. “And I’m pretty sure that when you want someone’s help, you shouldn’t insult them.”

Turning back to the desk, Ienzo shrugged noncommittally. “It’s been a long night.”

“Right,” Sora snapped. “Either way, it looks like the pathway for the mako has been disrupted, so you’ll have to reinflate it. You can do this with a butterfly needle – just push some air into it. It’ll regulate itself after a while. That’s what it’s designed to do.”

The answer was a drawl. An entitled, slightly smug, “Good to know.”

Brown eyebrows arched dramatically as the Mechanic announced, “I didn’t tell you that for nothing.”

Ienzo turned, their shoulders brushing as he shifted to face away from the desk. “Oh?”

“Do you have any idea how to go about creating Light?” Sora said, attempting something akin to confidence, only for his voice to crack. “The kind for souls and magic?”

A thoughtful light flitted behind severe eyes. “What makes you ask?”

“Lilo and I have this project we’re working on that ties into the SWAB testing machines.”

“Here’s an idea; you’re wasting your time.”

Sora huffed. “What makes you say that?”

Pale hands came up to tug on a periwinkle ponytail as Ienzo turned back to the desk. “Creating Artificial Light is hard enough. Harnessing it would be impossible for a pair of mechanics.”

The Mechanic startled, eyes widening pointedly before narrowing at the man before him in suspicion. “So it’s been done?”

“No.”

“Then how would you know?”

A small, cynical chuckle, then an amused glance. Ienzo leaned back in his chair with a whistling huff. “I’m afraid you don’t have clearance to know that.”

With a dark scoff, Sora shoved his hands deep in the depths of his pockets. “I’m beginning to wonder if that’s the standard answer for when people want to get rid of me.”

Plain confusion met the statement, periwinkle eyebrows screwing up against the words as the apprentice countered, “Why would I want to get rid of you?”

Sora shifted again. His feet made to step away, but fell back into place quickly. “Because…” He began softly, voice uneven. “I can’t do anything right.”

“Nonsense. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t at least mildly useful.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Ienzo shifted in his seat, absorbing the silence for a long, sharp second, before announcing, “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that success is fleeting and mistakes come back to haunt you.”

“Is that supposed to mean ‘don’t make mistakes’?”

“It means that if you don’t make an effort to acknowledge the good, you’ll find yourself buried in the things you hate most about yourself. Eventually, that’s all you can see.”

“What makes you say that?”

Once more, their conversation cut off with the introduction of an abrupt silence. It lingered in the air, almost like a promise. It echoed between them. Fluttered in the air they were breathing and the bare inches between their shoulders.

And _oh_ , they were _close_. Sora’s lips pursed as he began to shift from foot to foot. The commercial carpeting gave little in the way of protest to his movements, practically solid beneath his boots. As he took a deep, nervous breath, the familiar scent of Warmth poured from Ienzo like a gentle assurance. Words nearly leapt from him, but he bit them back.

 _It’s like there’s a bunch of walls between us_ , he nearly said, _and one of them just broke._

“This is your day off, isn’t it? Why aren’t you with your friends?”

“I-” Sora started blandly, reeling from the sudden segway, only to cut off as a series of knocks rang through the room.

Ienzo turned back to his project, attention suddenly unwavering.

With not much else to do, Sora stepped over to the door and opened it.

On the other side, Kairi grinned. “I knew I’d find you down here,” she laughed. “SIM room a go-go?”

**-T-M-**

“Okay, so he bitched you out after asking your help, then told you not to have low self esteem?” Kairi asked, leaning back in the swivelling chair as she tapped quickly through the shimmering menu. Reaching for her headset, she adjusted the microphone until it sat firmly away from her nose.

 _“You don’t have to phrase it so confrontationally,”_ Sora mumbled, voice barely caught by the microphones on the other side of the glass. The toes of his boots smacked the ground firmly, scuffing the outsole against the firm black tiles lining the SIM room.

“You don’t have to keep your head in the sand about him being an asshole,” the girl demanded sharply. “ Stop letting him walk all over you just because you’re jonesing for him. He’s a jerk. Ask to be reassigned.”

_“Can we just talk about something else, please?”_

“Okay,” she drawled. “The objective is Find the Informant.” Finger drawing over the controls, she selected [Proceed] with one manicured nail.

Beyond the window, black tile exploded into color, giving way to brightly colored buildings and rain flooding the streets to a glassy finish.

Diving beneath the overhangs lining either side of the street, Sora stared up at the cloudy sky with mixed emotions.

Tapping her mic, Kairi whispered, “Can you hear me?”

 _“Loud and clear,”_ Sora replied, holding up a thumb in a vague direction.

“Good.” Tapping through the mission log, Kairi glanced between the control panel and the display window with a small grin.

_“Cool. So who's my informant?”_

“You’re looking for a man with long silver hair in a black and yellow mini dress.”

 _“Again?”_ Sora whined. He jumped as a couple made their way past, shivering as familiar red hair walked side by side with black spikes.

Kairi made a choking noise. “It is so creepy that they use scans of students and teachers as characters in these programs.”

 _“Not just students and teachers,”_ he reminded her. _“Anyone who's stepped through that door has a scan of themselves in the program.”_

**-T-M-**

_“That is a nice ass.”_

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve been through this before. But it’s not our informant’s ass, so keep walking.”

_“You gotta admit, the leather was an excellent decision. Who is this guy?”_

“I am not searching through Academy student headshots so you can more effectively oggle the globes of a man’s ass. Besides, he can’t be older than seventeen.”

_“What if he’s older now?”_

“What if he’s dead?”

_“You’re a bundle of joy, you know that?”_

“Every time you run into this guy you spend half an hour covertly staring at his ass from across the street. Get to work.”

 _“But it’s SIM Guy,”_ Sora whined. _“It’s tradition to spend half an hour covertly staring at his ass.”_

**-T-M-**

“I can kind of imagine Aqua as a flower girl,” Kairi mused softly.

_“I don’t know. She’s a little too intimidating to be peddling baby’s breath.”_

“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t know ‘intimidating’ if it took you on a date and pressured you for sex.”

**-T-M-**

Upon turning a corner, Sora stared pointedly at the man handing flyers to passerby in a sparkling yellow and black mini dress, hair piled high on his head.

Leaning back in her seat, Kairi chuckled.

 _“No matter how many times this guy shows up in our simulations,”_ Sora began softly, _“he never looks any less angry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One paragraph after the line, “It’s been a long night.”   
>  A line that almost was:
> 
> _ “Oh, a long night. Totally. I completely understand. That explains why you’re being an ass. I’m sorry I hurt your precious ego.” _


	4. Remediary Human

Thirteen years after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
Transmission record from Team Miyano

_Academy - 14.25h Private line requested._  
_Miyano - 15.00h Private line secured._  
_Academy - 15.02h Request from Master Aqua; insistence for Shore Leave._  
_Miyano - 15.04h Inquiry as to reason for Shore Leave._  
_Academy - 15.07h Ally has been granted a Keyblade._  
_Miyano - 15.09h Team Miyano is unaware as to how this requires shore leave._  
_Academy - 15.13h Ally by the name of "Kairi" has been granted a Keyblade.  
_ _Miyano - 15.18h No shore leave will occur. Private line closed._

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars  
Chapter Four: Remediary Human**

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth by Sleep incident:

" _Wake up! Leave your hesitation! Wake up! Time for us to realize! Wake-"_

Hand slapping over the smooth cover of his PHS, Sora flipped it expertly open to silence the alarm with a startled groan.

" _Good morning, kupo!"_ his phone trilled once the song had ended, moogle waving its arms happily on screen. " _Your alarm application was briefly altered to accommodate a change to your schedule. Please report to the Headmistress' office in half an hour, kupo."_

As the animation came to an end, Sora collapsed back on his bed, sigh bubbling through his chest like a passive aggressive raspberry. Spitefully dropping his PHS to the floor, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. But as he began to rise from the mattress he froze. His eyes turned to the hard lump beneath the smooth line of his regulation underwear. "Don't," he whispered to it venomously. "Don't do this to me today."

Rising to his feet, the boy made his way across the room to the small metal wardrobe sitting blandly in the corner of the room. Yanking it open, he stared at the rumpled contents almost angrily. He reached forward, fingers wrapping around a blazer before bringing it to his face for a cautious sniff. He jerked away. A sound of disgust tore from his throat. But even as he put it back, he rose one arm and gave it another cursory sniff.

"Okay," he murmured to himself. "Hygiene first."

Within seconds the entire contents of his locker were stuffed in a well-used laundry bag, and he made his way out of the room with an angry snort, filthy clothes held protectively over his morning wood, badge slapping indelicately against his chest.

At the end of the hall – glass walls frosted to obscure even shadows – a single student manned a counter. Through the window, a series of machines sat neatly in lines of cubbies. Several shimmered with an inner light, rotating softly.

"You smell horrible," the girl behind the counter announced cheerfully. She stood no more than a hand-width high, wings fluttering at her back and dark hair falling down the front of her appropriately sized uniform. "No more clean laundry?"

Sora shrugged.

"Still a 26?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Silvermist."

Turning to the computer at her side, the fairy danced delicately across a few keys. At her side there came a ding, and a foot-wide horizontal slot opened up in the dark counter, allowing a single folded uniform set to pop into the air like fresh toast.

Grabbing up the clean clothes, Sora dropped the laundry bag onto the counter with a nod in the fairy's direction. "Thanks again."

"I wanna see you before you run out of underwear!" she called after him.

Attempting to casually hold the fresh uniform over his particularly sharp case of morning wood, Sora valiantly waddled to the door off to the right of the counter. The plaque happily proclaimed:

Showers

No room number. No notes about classes. No species notes or gender restrictions. No fancy lights proclaiming whether or not the room is in use. Just:

Showers

The door slid closed behind him, whispering closed like a half mumbled promise as a tableau laid itself before him.

"Hey, you're that kid."

At the sight of Seifer dropping a pile of laundry on a bench, Sora had a very visible fight – eyes twitching, muscles spasming, jaw dropping open and clenching – to not turn right around and leave the room.

Behind him, another face – friendlier, quirkier – emerged.

"Hey," Lilo greeted warmly. Her fingers gripped at the hems of her fatigues valiantly, peeling them away from her skin with a sickly sound, leaving behind the thick residue of machine oil.

"Oh thank god," Sora murmured under his breath, stepping pointedly around Seifer to approach the girl, gaze firmly on her face. "Lilo, hey. Get in a fight with an oil barrel?"

"Supply ship," she clarified with a tired laugh. Her lashes fluttered, adding to the smear of grease beneath dark, brown eyes. "It came early and one of the barrels hadn't been pressurized before it was loaded. So, naturally…"

"It exploded," he drawled in the wake of her trailing silence.

Lilo grinned. " _Science_." Bending forward, she carefully began to strip away the length of her pants, the fatigues projecting an odd slurping noise in protest.

"Science," Sora agrees jokingly. Turning to the bench, he dropped his loaner uniform to the smooth wood surface. His badge followed, and he soon began peeling off the sweat-soaked strap of his underwear. "Oh, wow, I am gross."

At his side, Lilo snorted. "Right. Sure. Totally gross."

"Hey, your state is the accident of an instant. Mine is over compounded weeks of…" He trailed off, pursing his lips before continuing softly, "... neglect."

"Weeks? Okay, yeah, you're way more disgusting."

From behind them came a laugh as Seifer passed them, bare of uniform or regulation underwear. "Hurry it up, chickenshits. I'm gonna start the light show in a few seconds."

"Hey, no, wait up!" Sora shouted in the man's wake, tugging his underwear off in one stumbling move. His face twisted as the straps passed his ankles and the seams glittered a deep purple. "Oh, god, I hate that sensation."

"Ah, Maunder gravity."

"Feels like I'm falling."

Lilo snorted. "Oh, nice."

The boy glanced up, then followed her gaze to his raging morning wood. He sighed. "You're telling me. I've got a meeting with Aqua in twenty minutes."

A burst of unapologetic laughter burst from Lilo at this. Dark fingers came up to wipe away imaginary tears, further smearing it across her cheek, before turning back to her uniform to peel it off. "Oh, that's gonna be awkward."

"You've got ten seconds," Seifer called. "I am not failing my kidneys waiting for you losers."

"It's 2 g's," Lilo drawled in reply, shucking her underwear swiftly before tossing the filthy mess into the nearby laundry chute. "At worst you'll get lightheaded. That's why the Academy was placed on this planet – similar G forces. It's putting the underwear back on that you have to worry about if you're on a planet with 3 g's or more. Negative Gz force can kill you, man."

Sora trailed after the girl towards the misted glass stall, peering casually down at his groin to see that his bobbing erection had finally begun to wane, deflating like an unused bouncy house, pointing to the floor in a dejected swagger.

"Seriously, I know you from somewhere."

Glancing up as he drew the stall door shut in his wake, Sora peered over at Seifer as he punched instructions into the wall panel. "Why don't you just directly ask if you've slept with me?" he drawled, eyebrows raising pointedly.

Seifer scoffed. "Please. You're naked. I'm naked. We are both too vulnerable for cheap innuendo or sexual inquiries right now." Pale, pasty fingers jammed into a large green button.

From the door came the sharp hiss as it sealed the room, and overhead a small announcement sounded. " _Lasers activating. Please close your eyes._ "

"Do, uh…" Sora swallowed, eyelids shuttering against the overhead light. "Do you guys ever imagine that door staying sealed after the shower, trapping us in and leaving us to stew in our own vomit and failing kidneys until help comes?"

"You should never voice that fear ever again," Seifer drawled, eyes slipping shut obediently. "Ever."

" _Excess non-organic matter detected. Please remove excess non-organic matter._ "

"Hey, you forgot to program around my cast," Sora prompted lightly.

"Yeah, sure, right," Seifer drawled. He punched in a code, and the computer trilled happily.

" _Lasers activating. Please close your eyes. Cleansing organic matter and necrosis._ "

"Why can't we just have water showers?" Sora whined as a series of needles popped from above, followed by a soft chiming noise as a the glowing sphere above them shifted from a soothing, gentle glow to a bitter red.

Lilo chuckled. "Because," she began lightly, "we're on a desert planet and conserving water is a thing. Unless you want to bathe in your own urine. In which case, be my guest. Just don't expect me to willingly breathe air anywhere near you ever again."

"You say that," Seifer interjected with faux sweetness, "but on some planets there's no other choice."

"That is is disgusting."

"I did not need to know that."

"No, you didn't. But now you do," the warrior drawled amusedly. "We also drink it if there's no water. It's surprisingly salty."

"I think I speak for everyone on this planet when I say you should never open your mouth again."

**-T-M-**

Sora was still gagging when the moogle in his phone sing-songed, "Don't be late, kupo! The Headmistress is waiting!" as he dragged open the door to the fourth floor. He passed several plaques as he went, shoulder dragging just below them on the smooth glass wall.

**401A – Gymnasium**

**401B – Locker Room**

**402 – Computer Lab**

**403 – Medical Center**

He spend a brief moment searching for the pool – something he'd heard was on the fourth floor but never managed to find – but eventually his feet dragged himself around the last corner to place himself before yet another plaque as his phone sang, "Don't be late, kupo! The Headmistress is waiting!"

**405 – Headmistress Aqua**

Wide, tan hands drew the badge hanging from his chest to the card-reader beside the door as the PHS continued to chant, "Don't be late, kupo! The Headmistress is waiting. Don't be late-" But as the hiss of the door popping open met the air, the PHS fell silent.

"Come in." The words were simple. There were no sharp tones or promises of redemption. They were simply blank. Free of emotion in a way that haunted the air, giving voices to the regrets hidden in the dark corner you were unaware they were still hiding in.

For the smallest of instants, Sora took an instinctual step away from the door. But the moment passed, and he stepped into the room with a nervous haste, eyes glued to the floor as he moved toward the chair planted firmly before the woman's wide, neat desk.

Tapping her stack of papers, her nail neatly underlining the bolded lines atop the page, Aqua smiled. "Is there anything you would like to say before we begin?"

Sora's eyes drew to the paper, suspicious.

**From: Shu_Computer_Lab Academy**

Snapping to attention, the boy's eye turned on the woman, surprise plain on his face. "I…" He trailed off, uncertain.

A long, awkward minute passed, long and dragging and almost angry, in which neither said a word.

"Sora," Aqua began softly, "It's been brought to my attention that you've hacked into the SIM computers and turned off the Footage Retrievement feature for your profile. Should I continue?"

Slowly, Sora shook his head.

"Now, what else do you think came to light?"

Tongue drawing out to wet suddenly dry lips, the Mechanic turned his eyes to his knees, where his hands clenched tightly in the fabric of his slacks. "That, uh… I reprogrammed it to retrieve footage from last year and present it with current time stamps."

Grabbing up the sheet of paper, Aqua offered it mutely.

Taking it, Sora peered at the contents in quiet shock.

**From: Shu_Computer_Lab Academy**

**To: Aqua Academy**

**Simulation Room Footage Discrepancy**

_It has come to my attention somewhat belatedly that a student – Sora, ID: 3282002 – has a discrepancy in the data retrieved from their required SIM time. Please review._

_Note: The footage from yesterday is the same as two instances last week. Computer error?_

**From: Jessie_Computer_Wiz Academy**

**To: Aqua Academy**

**SIM Room Camera Bug Thing - Follow Up Anal.**

_Not a bug. Someone rigged the code to cancel out new footage and recall shots of previous years. Specifically before team Almasy set the last camera on fire before the turn of the semester. Why this camera is blackened on one half of the screen and yet had not been noted before (or addressed and replaced) remains to be seen._

_Back on the hack – has Sora all over it. Sloppy code. Very sloppy. Randomizer is broken, too. Sad to say, if it weren't for that, there's a good chance no one would have noticed for a while. Or, you know, ever._

_Seriously, according to the hits history, only four people access that footage. One is you. One is Shu. One is me. We need more people on this. If a half-assed programmer of Sora's caliber can doctor his results then there's no telling when Lilo Pelekai will start taking commissions._

Shrinking further into his seat, Sora's eyes remained fixed on his fingers, twisting the papers clutched in his hands nervously. Their shadows played against the plush, thick gray carpet of Aqua's office. Before him, her wide, neat desk sat as it had before; immaculate and solid.

It felt like a wall.

"Is there something you would like to tell me?"

"Not really."

Breathing a light sigh, Aqua glanced down at her desk with a slight tick in one blue eyebrow. "Sora, the simulations have also done a Critical Health Shut Down several times in the last few weeks before completing your required hour. This is what originally prompted the investigation. Are you aware of that?"

"I'm trying, okay?!" Sora snapped, voice an unmotivated hiss. He glanced up, eyes bunched together in a hard line. But as his gaze met with brighter, bluer eyes, the boy turned away, ashamed.

Across the table, Aqua looked at him not with annoyance, but with open reluctance. "You are not required to do battle simulations. To my understanding, this is why you failed Physical Education, as well. According to Captain Vossler's notes, instead of focusing on defence you've gone on the offense in every spar you've ever been part of. In place of signing up for mazes and obstacle courses you've tried to focus on sword fighting."

"I just want to help people."

Peering up, the Headmistress leveled the young boy before him with a heavy, sympathetic gaze. As she watched, he shrunk into his chair, attempting to swallow himself in the plush, embroidered cushions. "You can't help anyone if you're dead."

Her comment was met with silence.

Breathing a long, heavy sigh, her fringe fluttered as her head shook knowingly. "Let's set aside the hacking issue for the moment," she suggested warmly. "How's Remedial Light?"

"The teacher's funny."

"Sora."

"You asked."

"Sora, do you know why you were put in that class?"

"Because I'm at risk," he announced dryly. "I'm a target for the darkness. I'm more likely to turn against everyone. I'm a danger to the people around me."

"No, Sora," the woman denied with a subtle shake of her head, bangs twitching back and forth before settling perfectly into place. "You have been assigned to Remedial Light because you are a danger to yourself."

"Right, 'cause that's the only ass I can kick," the boy muttered bitterly, sinking further into his chair. But just as the words tumbled from his lips and his knees gently brushed the underside of the wide, immaculate desk, his eyes widened a fraction and his limbs went stock still.

"It is not that your…" For a frankly comical moment, Aqua froze in place, as if she was a video that had stuttered from frame to frame, only to continue with, "... ass…" in a half-whispered exclamation similar to disbelief before resuming. "... is…" She stuttered again, voice breaking off.

Sora's expression in that moment was very simply, _I just said "ass" in front of Master Aqua_.

Then, _Master Aqua just said "ass."_

It was an expression of utter terror.

Both faced flushed as an awkward silence settled into place.

After a long, tense while, Aqua cleared her throat, attempting to move forward. "The point of this meeting is to inform you," she breathed at last, "that you have been placed on probation."

"I thought I was already on probation," Sora replied sharply. "You know – I failed Phys and I failed the SWAB. An hour SIM time every day. Remedial Light. Two probations."

"These regulations are in place for a reason," she continued, jaw taught, words falling spectacularly over the line between an honest reprimand and that of a script. She tapped at her desk, earning a brightly titled list that glittered up at her. "Failure to comply with required air quality levels."

"How-"

"Failure to comply with several class requirements. Failure to complete first SWAB. Failure to meet regulation safety margins. Including, but not limited to: unmonitored SIM access and a consistent disregard for your own safety. Unsanctioned commission involvement. Conscious effort to undermine digital security through hacking.

"The general policy put forth by the Academy since our inception is three strikes and you're out. To be honest, we've given you far more room to move around than other students would ever be allowed. Do you know why?"

Sora's eyes remained fixed on Aqua as she stared him down, mouth long since falling closed in favor of a thin, almost watery frown. A streak of discomfort eased through the boy as he averted his gaze suddenly. "Because..." he attempted softly, trailing off bitterly.

"Because," she continued in his place, "you're a Mechanic."

"Because I'm a Mechanic," he repeated softly.

"And I don't think you realize how much we need Mechanics."

Rising slowly from her desk, Aqua's hand reached for the papers gripped atop his thighs. "Consider your next offence strike three. You're on thin ice now," she told him, voice dark, as she took back the memors. "Please."

Her voice was gentler, now, drawing eyes away from white knuckles and trembling knees to gaze at the woman whose attention was fixed pointedly towards him, as if pleading with her eyes.

"Don't break it."

**-T-M-**

A single tan finger tapped against the small intercom panel beside a wide glass door. It flashed once, and Kairi's familiar voice gurgled through after a second.

" _Audrey and Kairi's room._ "

Leaning towards the small holes in the panel, he whispered, "It's me. Open the door."

" _How do I know it's you?_ "

"Just open the stupid door."

Within seconds the door gave a sharp hiss and popped open. But as Sora moved to step inside, a woman with wiry black hair shoves him back, moving out of the entryway with a scoff.

"Hey Audrey," Sora greeted warmly.

"No time for pleasantries, sky boy," she snapped.

Sky boy hummed. "Where's the fire this time?"

"Some loco blew up the plumbing on Duckburg. Old McDuck wants his investment returned, pronto."

"Isn't Duckburg full of people who can fix that?"

"Plumbers, yes. Architects, also yes. Builders, double yes. But I'll send you a photo and maybe you'll get why they're calling in the big girls."

As Audrey stomped off, tool belt jangling, backpack jiggling, the overalls pulled up over her uniform bouncing, Sora gave a small, impressed grin.

"Hey."

Turning sharply, Sora laid his eyes on the petite woman staring up at him from the doorway. "Hey, Kairi."

"Classes don't even start for hours. What's up?"

"We, uh…" He cleared his throat, glancing up and down the hallway before stepping forward into the small gap between the woman and the doorframe. She moved out of his path as he strode into the room, fingers combing nervously through his bangs. "We can't smoke any more. Air quality requirements or something like that."

Red eyebrows bunched, drawing together above bright blue eyes that shone with light curiosity. "Did something happen?"

"Look…" Sora cut off, eyes clenching shut and lips pursing as the door drew closed in their wake.

The room was a mess, with dirty laundry piled in one corner and clean in the other. A sock hung from the railing of the uppermost bunk bed. Three pairs of underwear lay strewn across the floor in varying states of dishevelment.

With a strained nonchalance, Sora hopped on the lower bunk and collapsed on the mattress, head propped up on the sheets wadded at the foot of the bed. He turned his face into the blanket, breathing in the fresh scent of recently laundered fabric. "Your sheets smell so nice."

Crawling in beside him, Kairi settled her head on the narrow expanse of the Mechanic's chest. "Did something happen?" she repeated.

Arm winding around the girl on his chest, Sora breathed out a long, tense breath before burying his nose in her hair, murmuring, "Got woken up by an altered alarm this morning. Had to go to Aqua's office."

In his arms, Kairi remained oddly silent.

"Apparently, on top of two probations and – I think she said 'compromising air quality' or something like that – hacking into the SIM database and making it scrub all my battle simulation footage is taking a step too far."

Red lashes fluttered suddenly in confusion, and blue eyes found blue, oddly blank. "You _hacked_ the _school_?"

"SIM footage," Sora corrected quickly. "I hacked the SIM footage. Not the school. There's a difference."

Eyes turning back to the mattress above them, tracing the looping patterns sewn into the fabric stretched taut, her gaze turned on a small tear between two support bars. Reaching up, Kairi hooked a finger around the side of the frayed cut, dragging it to one side to reveal the empty innards of the mattress. Inside, the empty space shimmered. Small bits of dust-like particles remained suspended in space. And yet the mattress seemed full. There were no bits of stuffing or coils of springs wound for support. Instead, a simple spell kept the vacant insides of the bed from appearing empty.

Her hand tingled.

Sora watched as the girl silently stared into the empty frame of the mattress.

"I think I need a cigarette."

The boy blinked, startling at the sudden admission. "I would honestly give Professor Vossler a rimjob if I could have a smoke right now, but if I do I'll be expelled."

"Don't worry. I have another spot."

Again, Sora blinked. "Are you asking me for a rimjob right now?"

"No," Kairi laughed, rising off of his chest to scoot indelicately off the mattress. "But thanks for the offer."

**-T-M-**

As the heavy metal door was thrown open and they left the relative peace of the stairwell, Sora cleared his throat. "Uh, why do you have access to the fifth floor?"

"Survival 3 and Cultural studies," Kairi replied easily.

Sora peered closely at a plaque as they passed, eyeing the classes skeptically.

**501 – Cultural Studies**

**What Is Art?: A Study of Art from World to World**

**Etiquette and Eloquence: Manners and Such**

**Etiquette and Eloquence: Foreign Politics**

**The Lost Art of Language: Understanding Nuances that Hide in Magical Translation**

" _Which_ Cultural Studies?"

Kairi shrugged, making her way swiftly down the hall, passing several classrooms as she went, eyes firmly ahead as they passed rooms bare of shadows beyond misted glass.

Regulation boots shuffling along the commercial carpeting, Sora trailed behind the girl like a paper kite. He bobbed from side to side, flitting from one side of the hall to the other as his longer legs failed to match Kairi's short, neat strides.

"What are you? A bug?" she called in her wake as they finally approached the final door at the end of the hall. A single shadow stood beyond the glass, image smudged by the misted, semi-opaque walls. Reaching for the badge hanging from her neck, her fingers played with the lanyard for a short moment before pale fingers clasped the card and slid it through the reader beside the door.

"Yes," Sora replied quietly as the door popped open, sending a wash of sharp, hot air around them. His hands drew up, shielding his eyes against the sudden onslaught. "I am a bug."

As the glass folded to the side, a blinding light spilled through. It lit the carpet beneath their feet, warming their shoes and the hems of their pants. Overhead, the fans struggled to compensate for the sudden change in temperature.

Peering between his fingers, Sora eyed the girl holding the door open. He shuffled forward silently, eyes shuttered against the light. "I can't tell," he murmured as he stepped from between the frame and onto heated tiles. "Is this a balcony."

"Riku."

Sora turned, barely managing to catch Kairi's ecstatic expression as she rushed out onto the balcony, sprinting to a dark figure relaxed against the railing.

"Riku?" he gasped in her wake. Staggering over to the railing, he held his hand firmly against his forehead, peering through the waves of heat that shimmered along the length of the balcony. His expression twisted as a bead of sweat trailed down from where his thumb met his eyebrow, licking his suddenly dry lips nervously. But as he approached the railing his eyes drew wide and the sharp expression melted away into one of shock. "Riku."

Reclining casually against the railing, a young man with short, well kept hair a sharp white that seemed to burn in the sunlight turned to Sora with a smart grin. Kairi had tucked herself beneath his arm, hands firm against his back in an intimate embrace. "Hey, Sora."

"Riku," the boy breathed again. But as he spoke, his eyes followed the line of the man's arm, tracing it until he found a cigarette posed between deathly pale fingers. Reaching for his own pack, he produced a single stick with a huff, slipping it between his lips and lighting it before stowing his pack back in his pocket. "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since when do _you_ smoke?" Riku fired back, his barely-visible eyebrows arching dramatically. "It's been a while since we've seen each other, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Are you guys done being dramatic?" Kairi drawled, untangling herself from the man's torso and withdrawing a single carton from her pocket. "Hug. Kiss. Be merry."

"Since when do _you_ smoke?!" Riku laughed.

Kairi answered this with duck lips and a raspberry.

"How do you think I get my cigarettes? I'm a second year. I'm not allowed to leave," Sora pointed out dryly.

Gloved fingers ran through short white hair, tugging it away from sharp green eyes that turned pointedly to the girl. "Oh, so you're a smuggler, now!" He whistled. "I must have been gone longer than I thought."

Behind him, Sora's expression turned sour, and his mouth opened, then closed.

"When did you get back?" Kairi asked, running a hand through her hair as well. She turned, back against the railing, to look Riku sideways in the eye.

Lifting a lighter with his left hand, Riku lit her cigarette, then stubbed the dying stump in his mouth out in an ash tray he slid in and out of his inside pocket, smooth as oil. "Not long ago," he replied softly. "An hour. Maybe two."

"You should have found us."

Off to the side, Sora took a long, angry drag on his cigarette. And as he dragged it away from his lips, his hand slapped soundlessly against the railing, smoke trailing in its wake; an angry cloud that fluttered all the way to the tips of his shoes, dancing around his toes. His eyes glanced nervously to the pair, flicking between their pale faces before turning back to the sky.

"I didn't think you would be awake."

In the distance, the second sun had risen to peek over the horizon, setting the sand that stretched in every direction for an eternity alight with a vermillion glow.

"A message in advance would have been nice."

"Come on," Sora sneered suddenly, stepping away from the railing as he stuffed his cigarette in his ash tray. He turned, striding quickly to glass door across the balcony. "We can't be out here too long or we'll fry."

As the door slammed shut in his wake, Riku turned to Kairi, eyebrows drawn curiously together. "He's gotten worse, hasn't he?"

"Riku," she began softly, glancing between the man and the distorted shadow beyond the thick glass door, "Sora failed the SWAB."

Pinching the bridge of his nose with one gloved hand, the man hissed an angry, "I shouldn't have come back."

"His insecurities have nothing to do with your location," Kairi snorted, glancing from the man, then back to the door with a smooth grin. "He even failed it while you were gone. You aren't the problem."

"No, but I'm certainly part of it."

"That doesn't make it your fault," she reasoned. "And before you get all mopey and start thinking 'I'm not worth his friendship,' or something stupid like that," she mocked, voice going deep and lips turning out jokingly, "you should know that you are _definitely_ worth his friendship, and the problem isn't that you don't deserve him, but that he doesn't think he's good enough to _be you_."

"He doesn't want to be me," Riku drawled. "That's ridiculous. He wants to _beat_ me."

Kairi laughed, stepping away from the balcony rail with a swagger in her hips. "Believe what you want. I'm still his best friend."

Riku's expression turned sharp. " _I'm_ his best friend."

Small feet came to an abrupt pause, boots scuffing the warm tile as Kairi turned pointedly to face the man behind her. "You've been gone for a year," she began quietly, face suddenly blank of expression and a soft curiosity in her eyes. "There have been no updates. No letters. No messages from you. We've sent you videos and letters and care packages that took more effort than I think you'll ever be able to acknowledge.

"Sora doesn't have the clearance to know what's going on in your life. I don't have to clearance to tell him. You know this. And yet you don't feel the need to send so much as an 'I'm alive.' And the only reason he knew you weren't dead is because The Academy tends to keep us updated about deaths in the field. After a while, no news became good news. You weren't here, and I got to watch Sora implode in slow motion, like always, as you did nothing. So don't tell me you're Sora's best friend."

As a silence settled between them, Riku could only watch in shock as Kairi then strode forward and ripped the glove from his right hand, revealing a stretch of silver that formed from his upper wrist to the tips of his fingers.

" _This_ should have been the first thing you told us about," she whispered, expression still oddly blank. There was no anger in her voice. No regret. Still, curiosity reigned, and an empty, twisted form of confusion. "You lost your _hand_."

"They fixed it."

"They replaced it." For an instant, her voice fluttered, and she cleared her throat. "And he's obviously not your best friend any more. If he were, you'd tell him."

"You're one to talk, _Princess_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thought from the writer about their readers:
> 
> _"I wonder if they like the rewrite? I hope they do. I wonder if they could speculate in the comments… I love speculation. I wonder if the original readers know it's being rewritten..."_


	5. Parallel

Radiant Garden, twenty years after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
A private conversation between the Queen's Chief of Security and the Royal Mechanic 

_“Are you sure you're okay with this? They keep saying you won't come back.”_

_“They say that about every mission. I'm here now, aren't I?”_

_“But you-”_

_“Come on ? Let's say a prayer. The kind your people used to do.”_

“If there is a God out there, I doubt he has time for our prayers. Everyone's been cluttered around an alter these days.”  
_“Then let's pray to mine. I'm sure one of them has some time to spare.”_

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter Five: Parallel**

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth by Sleep incident:

“You didn’t mess up the room too bad, did you?” Riku asked as he, Kairi, and Sora jaunted quickly down the hall. As he shifted the duffel bag along his shoulder, one gloved hand slid up and down the strap.

Sora shrugged, cast dragging lightly against the wall before he tugged it back with a frown. “It’s about as neat as it’s going to… get.” He drew to a pause, eyes landing on the open window of the laundry facility, Silvermist waving politely from the desk. “Just a second, guys.”

“Sora!” the fairy greeted him warmly, wings fluttering. “Your laundry’s done. Would you like it now, or taken to your room at the end of the night?”

“Now. Always now,” the boy bubbled, hands clasped together over the bit of cast between his thumb and forefinger as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Of course. You’re Sora,” she sighed, smiling wide. Rising from her seat, she tapped at the computer with her feet, shoes dainty and small as they clicked against the keys.

Again, the counter gave a high pitched _ding_ , a single laundry bag popping out of the dispenser like perfect toast before it thumped against the floor.

Taking hold of the mouth of the bag with his uninjured hand, Sora tossed it onto his back with a wave and a smile back at Silvermist. “Thanks. See you next time.”

“Before you run out of underwear!” she reminded him.

Riku snorted as Sora came up to them, shaking his head. “Old habits die hard.”

Kairi led the way down the hall at a skip, motioned for Riku, then towards the card reader beside Sora’s bedroom door. “Would you like to do the honors?”

With a roll of his eyes, Riku dug a card from his blazer’s inside pocket, sliding it firmly through the card reader. Instantly, the door popped open, and he strode through confidently. But as he stepped into the room he came to an abrupt stop. His face twisted, hands coming up to cover his nose. He gagged. “Guh.”

“What?” Sora asked, stepping into the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Smells like your room back home.”

“I’ve gotten used to the cornchip smell,” Kairi drawled, waltzing into the room with a wide smirk.

“It’s like dirty laundry, your dad’s cigarettes – yours, now, – and masturbation was magically concentrated into an oil and infused with the _air_.”

“Okay, you can stop,” Sora drawled, expression dark.

“Like a desperate teenager rutting against the bed and just leaving splooge-”

“ _Stop while you’re ahead. Please just stop_.”

“He’s right, though,” Kairi noted happily, climbing the ladder two steps at a time before throwing herself on Riku’s bed. Her hand dove around the edge of the mattress, retrieving the dog earred novel with the racy image and the title “Anxigot’s Horse.”

“Have you been _reading my books_?!”

Kairi shrugged. “No. Of course not. Why would I read your books?”

“You’re reading one right now!” Riku screeched.

The girl gave a halfhearted hum. “Am I? Must not have noticed. Sora’s boring when he’s angsty.”

Tossing his laundry to his bed, the boy threw up his arms in disdain. “Really feeling the love, guys.”

“Choke on a daikon,” Riku drawled.

“Eat a carpet,” he shot back.

A surprised chortle rose from Riku at this, spilling into the room and break through some thick, tangible tension that had eased through the air like molasses. “Speaking of daikons and carpets,” he cooed, stepping up to the bed to lean against the ladder, dropping his duffel to the floor, “munch on any recently?”

Sora shook his head, snorting amusedly. “No, but I am certainly trying.”

“Daikon? Carpet? Neither? Both? In between?”

“Daikon.”

“What’s his name?”

“Ienzo.”

Riku stiffened, then looked pointedly at Kairi. Covertly waving a hand at her, their eyes met as she looked away from the book. Soundlessly, he mouthed, “What the _hell_?”

“Intervention failed. Your problem, now,” she mouthed back before turning her gaze to the book, flipping a page with an excited wiggle as she played with the dogeared corner.

Clearing his throat, Riku turned back to Sora with an uncomfortable grin. “What’s so special about this particular rimjob?”

“Don’t call him a rimjob.”

“Fine.” Licking his lips, Riku enunciated very clearly, “What’s so special about this particular _asshole_?”

“What is going on?” Sora snapped, leaping off his bed, cast swinging. “What, is there something everyone knows about this guy that I don’t?”

Up on the bed, Kairi interjected with a dry, “Yes.”

“So, what? Is he some supervillain or something?” the boy snapped. “Does he – does he kill babies for fun? Or go around raping people?”

“It’s above your clearance,” Riku insisted sharply. “I couldn’t tell you if I wanted.”

“Fuck clearance,” Sora snipped, face livid. “You know what? He’s obviously not doing whatever he did that was so _bad_ . Otherwise he wouldn’t be at _The Academy_. Did you ever think of that? So you know what? Fuck it and fuck you. I’m going to ask him out. Tonight.”

“Sora-”

Storming to the door, the boy tore it open with a shout.

Kairi snorted, looking up from her book. “That’s the last time I let you handle his emotional state.”

Turning to the girl propped up on his bed, Riku shook his head. “Please,” he whispered, “make that a _promise_ .” Collapsing on the lower bunk, he breathed a heavy sigh. “He’s acting like a _teenager_.”

“He _is_ a teenager,” the girl pointed out lightly. “He’s nineteen – you’re only twenty, might I remind you – and he is under a _lot_ of stress.”

Rolling onto his back, Riku stared up at the mattress above him, eyebrows narrowed. “How much stress are we talking?”

“Well, for one, he’s about to get kicked out of the school.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m really, really not.”

**-T-M-**

Dropping onto the examination table, Sora’s legs flailed for a moment before swinging back and forth, boots scuffing the floor with each pass. The Med Center was immaculate as always: floors an army of white tiles, glass walls shaded a soothing periwinkle, and beds pressed to perfection in a neat line, sectioned off by lengths of heavy white curtains giving the impression of privacy.

Stepping into the ring of curtains with a wide grin, Nani set her clipboard on the table at her side. “Ready to get that cast off?”

“Yes,” he snapped quickly in reply.

An arched eyebrow twitched at this, and dark eyes turned on him knowingly. “Long morning?”

“I _really_ don’t want to talk about it.”

“How’s your arm been feeling?” Nani redirected smoothly

Sora shrugged. “Itchy.”

“You haven’t been scratching it, have you?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. What’s the last thing you shoved in your cast?”

“My PHS.”

Nani fixed him with a look; smile crooked and eyebrows arched dramatically.

“What? It gets good reach and area.”

Suddenly brandishing a long pair of crooked scissors, she waved them vaguely at Sora’s arm. “Let’s do this.”

**-T-M-**

Fingers twitching and stretching and twisting at his side, Sora passed through the third floor with all the energy of a nuclear explosion, passing by the barrage of rooms on either side.

**306 - Lab 1** **  
** **No Resident**

**306 - Lab 2** **  
** **Cid Highwind**

**306 - Lab 3** **  
** **No Resident**

**306 - Lab 4** **  
** **Even Prince**

Drawing up to Lab 4, Sora reached for his badge, only to pause. Then, with a sharp grimace, he reached up and grabbed it pointedly with his left hand, dragging it clumsily through the card reader.

Beeping angrily, the card reader flashed red, then went silent.

Sora blinked. He glanced down at his card. It seemed fine.

And then it wasn’t.

For a fraction of a second, it felt as though he were squinting through a straw. But the colors were all wrong. The card was green, the floor was blue, and the light filtering across the carpet was a soothing yellow. His head flew up, and he glanced around the hall nervously.

Students.

He was surrounded by students.

Humanoids made up a vast majority of their population, meandering about with wide grins and chatting amiably with one another, hair multiple shades of greens and blues and reds, the dye fading at the roots. Gone were fatigues and suits, replaced instead by colorful T-shirts with a bright and cheery _Maunder Academy_ displayed across the chest in cutesy bubble letters. Red, yellows, blues – which each color shirt, the logo varied and the color scheme changed. But on every student, the same tired joy danced in their eyes. They were lit by the warm yellow light streaming from the wide, glass walls interspaced by long tinted sections that displayed the sweeping golden landscape of the desert around them. Many held trays, fresh fruits and steaming plates of food heaped before them as they bustled about the small cafeteria.

And from behind him came a whisper.

_“Sora_.”

The Mechanic swung around, panic throwing his heart into a tizzy as his feet caught against the carpet. But as he turned, the soft light faded. And just like that, he had left the warm, happy cafeteria.

He was alone. The carpets were white: commercial, tough, and uniform. Wide walls were misted with a cool white, sending even scads of suddenly impersonal light across the floor. His uniform – he patted it down, peering at it closely – was no longer the same drab gray.

In the blazer’s place, a green vest stood out against his chest.

And within him rose a sharp panic.

Reaching quickly for the zipper, he tore the article off of him, shimmying it down his arms and chucking it to the floor with a startled scream.

Once there, it did nothing.

Just… sat there.

Like a normal, non threatening vest.

Running shaky hands through his hair, he managed a strangled, “Am I going crazy?”

Before him, the glass creaked open.

Head popping out between the door and the frame, Even fixed Sora with a look. “I thought I heard something.”

“Uh-”

“Are you going to get in here or do you…” His eyes flickered momentarily to the vest, discarded on the floor mere inches from the boy’s feet. “... intend to strip in the hallway first?”

“Um.”

Blond eyebrows rose melodramatically as the man pushed the door open a smidge further, revealing his long, white lab coat thrown over his own matching slacks, shirt, and…

… vest.

“Put your uniform back on before you lose a kidney,” he suggested dryly, stepping away from the door with a halfhearted wave of his hand. “And get your butt in here.”

“Yes, sir,” Sora replied promptly, the words falling from him with a well practiced salute that his arm fell into without any prompting of his own.

For a second, as Even turned to him, Sora felt frozen inside his own body.

Ice blue eyes narrowed at him. “For the last time, I am not your superior officer. How many times do I have to tell you not to salute me?”

The mechanic cleared his throat, panic rising in his stomach as he looked upon this suddenly _different_ Even.

“Until it stops annoying me?” the new Even joked quietly. “Put your vest on and get in here. And…” Holding up a finger, his eyebrows arched and he peered down at Sora severely. “... _don’t_ call me ‘sir’ this time.”

Sora turned away, staring at the vest in an attempt to look away from the man in the doorway.

The different man.

Even tapped long, impatient fingers against the glass frame as he watched Sora stoop. Icy green eyes, once bare, were suddenly framed by thick, large glasses. They partially obscured a scar that ran from around his left cheek, twisting around the side of his face and curling angrily around his ear.

Grabbing up the strange vest, Sora slid it cautiously along his arms to settle it snugly against his shoulders. He heard for the first time the clinking of tools. Felt the weight of metal settling against his chest. He turned, eyes fixing on the new Even before stepping into the room. His fingers patted at the pockets, exploring each item within, only to find the knowledge already there at the back of his head.

Left breast; _mana solder._

Right breast; _multitool_.

Lower left; _monkey wrench_.

Lower right; _cigarettes_.

Blue eyes searched the room, cataloging the high padded walls, sprawling equipment, and the small pedestal that served as Ienzo’s desk tucked away in the corner. With a dry sigh, he deflated.

Nothing else seemed to have changed.

He startled as Even passed, the door hissing shut in his wake. Stepping up to a computer propped against the main controls of the center machine, the scientist taps quickly at a few choice keys. “You got your cast off.”

Slowly, Sora nodded. “Yeah, about ten minutes ago.”

“Good,” Even mumbled. “Good…” Motioning to the small pedestal in the corner without turning from the screen, he gently commanded, “There’s a clipboard on Ienzo’s desk with some schematics on it. See what you can do about finishing what’s been highlighted.”

Sora turned to eye the desk, then turned his attention to the machine. It was the same as before, but he’d never before taken a good, long look. The centerpiece was a brick of steel, with a large glass dome tall enough to hold Sora standing up. The inside was bolted into place, but the metal was interrupted by a single sphere set into the center that seemed to glimmer beneath the overhead lights. Around the centerpiece, eight hoses trailed into the room, their ends attached to large steel crates propped against the walls. Gingerly stepping over the hoses, Sora made his way to the desk, finding the schematics atop it. He snatched it up quickly, only to pause.

Beneath the clipboard was a single napkin. On it, a single sentence had been written.

**Pick up spare uniform blazer before you start work.**

Sora peered at it closely. He turned, eyeing Even’s vest, then ran a hand over his own. Then, with eyebrows drawn together sharply, he reached for the note. But as his fingers brushed the napkin it shimmered and shifted. For a second, it seemed as if it had glitched, suddenly appearing on the other side of the desk.

Air seemed suddenly in short supply as Sora read the napkin again.

**Pick up spare vest before you start work.**

“I’m gonna get some wire,” the Mechanic announced suddenly, shifting away from the desk.

Even looked up from his computer, confused, and watched as the boy fled the room in a haste.

**-T-M-**

Racing down the hall, Sora passed no one. The halls were an empty blur as he strode quickly through them, passing right by the mechanic’s bay on his way. He shoved through the door to the stairwell, clipboard falling to the floor as he dropped to his knees with a breathless gasp. Fingers clutching at his face and hair, the Mechanic bent around his legs as he breathed and breathed and _breathed_.

“Everything alright?”

Eyes turning sharply on the new arrival, Sora took another shuddering breath before his chest stilled.

Before him, Ienzo stood half hidden by the glass steps of the stairwell. His hair was combed messily to the side, no longer paired with the fashionable cut of the uniform blazer jacket and instead looking out of place next to the green vest that hung neatly from his torso.

“Suit jackets are the uniform,” Sora began, “ _right?_ ”

For a brief moment, something flashed through Ienzo’s eyes. Confusion. Surprise. But in an instant they were replaced by cool indifference. “No,” he drawled. “Blazers have never been part of the uniform here.” Striding up the last of the stairs, the apprentice stepped past Sora and slid his card firmly through the card reader.

And for another strange moment, his stride stuttered. But it, too, passed, and he stepped down the hallway with his head held high and his shoulders confidently back.

Rising carefully to his feet, Sora stepped back into the hall.

Off to his right was the mechanic’s bay, door propped wide open, peeling yellow paint replaced by a fresh coat of gold.

Off to his left was a horde of Heartless, trapped within the nearby classroom, throwing itself against the wall in an attempt to reach the Mechanic.

Art by [GravityBeams](http://kollapsar.tumblr.com/)

**-T-M-**

“And breathe in-”

Sora took a long, even breath in.

“- and out.”

Releasing it slowly, the boy lowered his head slightly, eyes firmly closed. At his side, Zack breathed with him. His vest was undone, revealing a small bit of chest hair that wobbled with every exhale.

Eyes opening briefly, the teacher fixed Sora with a look. “Continue breathing. I have some things to ask you, but you don’t necessarily have to answer.”

Obediently, Sora continued to breathe.

“The Academy is under a strange set of circumstances when it comes to your particular case.”

Sora’s eyes flutter open for a moment before screwing firmly shut.

“It’s been under consideration how healthy the environment of the school is for you,” Zack informed him softly. “You handle competition well in academics, but in physical courses you try to take things too fast and flunk out. I suggested this morning that you be moved to an apprenticeship on an affiliated base, and your friends Riku and Kairi came up in the ensuing debate. Whether or not you would do better with or without them. It was then implied that you would improve in a situation that would have you professionally distant from Riku and Kairi, and instead force you to evaluate yourself by entirely different standards from what they are held to.

“Why?”

Zack sighed. “Last week we lost twelve Mechanics to Heartless on the front lines.”

“I know.”

“Then you know we can’t afford to lose one in our own school.” Settling back into his form, Zack relaxed into his cushion. “I’m not technically allowed to tell you this, but you’re going to get an offer to leave, soon. I suggest you take it.”

“Can I talk to you about something else for a second?”

Zack’s eyes flew open, turning on the boy for a short second before closing once more. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Can Darkness Exposure mess with your memory?”

“In what way?”

“In the way that until a few hours ago I was pretty sure we wore blazers instead of vests.”

Zack peeled back an eyelid, gaze landing critically on the boy at his side. “It hasn't been studied enough for me to answer that confidently.”

“Okay,” Sora whispered, breath stuttering softly and his expression slowly unwound from itself. “Cool.”

**-T-M-**

Emerging from Remedial Light, Sora stared down the empty hall, his expression oddly relaxed. Behind him, the door hissed shut.

“Maybe you’re going crazy,” he murmured to himself.

**-T-M-**

“Sora!”

Slamming down the large coil of wire sandwiched between his arms, Sora glanced up to find a woman hopping over wires and around projects, racing over to him. “What’s up?”

Coming to a pause before him, Lilo took a heavy breath. “I was called in. The commission thing. I am _so sorry_. I didn’t think.”

“No,” the boy denied. “ _We_ didn’t think. You aren’t accountable for my actions; I am. I knew the rules. I took the risks. I got caught.”

Slowly, she deflates, expression going flat. “I’m still sorry about it.”

With a halfhearted shrug, he bent at the knees, fingers twining around the edges of the wire spool once more and heaving it up to his stomach. “It happens.”

Dark eyebrows furrowed. “You’re unusually calm about this.”

“Eh. I’ve got bigger problems.”

“Bigger than getting put on probation?”

“Eh.”

Blinking owlishly, Lilo shook her head skeptically. “Wow. Are you high?”

“If I were, my life would make so much more sense right now.”

“Can I still check your pupils?” she asked, already leaning forward to pry his eyes open with two primed fingers. Pressing them gently beneath his bottom layer of lashes and eyebrow, she swiftly placed his eye on display, peering into it skeptically.

Sora, defenseless with the wire  in hand, remained as still as possible as the older woman critically observed the diameter of his pupil.

After a second, she drew away with a scoff. “I can’t believe it. You’re actually not high.”

“I don’t spend all my time high.”

“You spend enough of it.”

“Can I do my job now?”

She waved him off, turning primly on the ball of her foot. “Go. Destroy your social life one project at a time.”

“That’s _my_ line.”

“Bye, Sora.”

“I’ll see you later, Lilo.”

**-T-M-**

Lugging the wire down the hall and up to the fourth lab, Sora kicked the door three times. And, after a few tense seconds, kicked again.

As his foot knocked the glass for the sixth time, the door popped open to reveal a mess of periwinkle hair. The usually neat tresses had been ruffled, pushed out of place and falling unevenly against the side of a pale, wan face.

Upon seeing him, Ienzo sighed, opening the door wide.

Pushing past the older man, Sora craned to look over his shoulder as the apprentice pushed the door shut. “Everything alright?”

Dropping onto his stool, the older man hovered over his desk. “You’re the one having meltdowns in the stairwell.”

Sora scoffed, dropping the wire to a clear bit of floor and carefully pecking the ties keeping it together with lazy fingers. “Can you answer me without the usual level of sarcasm?”

“Today is shit and my vest itches,” Ienzo retorted efficiently.

“Thank you. And I echo you on that. Today is shit.” Tearing open the packaging at last, Sora unwound the first bit of wire. “Where’s Even?”

A vague shrug was his response, along with a distracted, “Sending a transmission,”

“You know, I’m starting to realize Even is a lot like my mom,” the Mechanic laughed.

Pastel eyebrows furrowed as pale eyes turned on the wall. Then, shifting quickly to peer at his companion, Ienzo fixed him with a dry expression. “In what way?”

“Well...” Sora bit back a smile, glancing shyly to the apprentice seated across the room, then back to the wire in his hands. “She’ll go MIA sometimes. She’ll get focused on something. My dad and I used to run around trying to figure out where she wandered off, and it became a social networking exercise whenever she stepped outside,” he explained quietly, dragging his multitool from his vest with a muttered, “ _Well, that’s convenient._ ”

“That doesn’t sound very convenient.”

“No, that’s– Never mind.”

“Whatever.”

Slowly, Sora set the wire down, fingers stilling against the multitool. Shy, he glanced to the older man, expression cautious. “What about you?”

“I hardly doubt I would use the word ‘convenient’ to describe myself,” Ienzo drawled lightly, fingers twitching against the sheet of paper sandwiched between his desk and his hand. Between pale digits, a pencil danced lightly.

“ _That’s not what I meant,_ ” Sora drawled.

“Then what _did_ you mean?”

“Family,” Sora clarified dryly. “Do you have anyone waiting for you back home? Mom? Dad?” He pursed his lips, then wet them with a quick flick of his tongue as his throat suddenly went dry and he attempted to add casually, “Girlfriend?” only for his voice to crack.

The pencil stilled, and a short pause – the perfect pause: not short enough to be taken humorously, not too long to imply insult, but with just enough substance to imply nonchalance – later he replied with a dry, “Hardly.”

“Hardly?”

“Some people just don’t have much luck with social connections.”

Eyes rising to meet Ienzo’s, Sora’s fingers trembled against the length of wire beneath his hands. “What about me?”

Again, a pause. Longer, this time. Almost lengthy enough to imply shock. “What _about_ you?”

“I…” Clearing his throat, Sora’s chin lifted incrementally. “Would you mind if I were your boyfriend? Hypothetically.”

Pale eyes slid shut, blocking out the view of the clipboard as Ienzo’s shoulders grew stiff. Thin lips fell open. Then closed. Finally, they parted, bottom lip trembling slightly. “Hypothetically,” he began, voice a pale imitation of a monotone, “that is a horrible idea.”

After a long, tense silence, Sora’s breath sputtered out of him in a coarse raspberry. He rose to his feet quickly, wiping his hands off on his pants. “Whelp,” he announced suddenly, “that happened.” Stepping over the wire, he stepped quickly through the room, hopping over tubes and capsules before tearing open the door, pushing past a surprised Even in the hall.

Expression severe, the scientist turned to catch the slowly closing door. He strode into the room, eyes sharp. But as the glass fell shut behind him his expression melted away. Mouth lax, eyes crumpled with something akin to regret, and scar twisting away from his ear, he whispered a soft, “What happened?”

Hands buried in his hair, Ienzo bent over the desk, forehead pressed to the pedestal as his shoulders remained still.

Then, much quieter still, the scientist gasped a gentle, “What did you say this time?”

**-T-M-**

Tapping furiously into his PHS, Sora shoved it in his pocket with shaking hands. He strode quickly away from the Labs, approaching the wing across the hall.

**303 - SIM Rooms**

Sliding his ID card through the first reader he came across, the boy tore the door open with a vengeance, allowing it to slip closed quietly behind him as he threw himself into the control chair. Tanned fingers tapped at the controls, working through the menus quickly. But as he reached the final options and arrived at the confirmation screen, the “Proceed” button was grayed out, accompanied by a single sentence.

_*Second party confirmation is required for this profile._

Collapsing back into the seat, Sora threw up his arms. “Well, hopefully they’ll be here soon so go suck a dick.” At that moment, from the door came the mechanical whir of locks, and Sora glanced over to see Riku standing in the mouth of the room. “I was kind of expecting Kairi.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the man drawled, stepping into the room. “Besides, I think she’s in class. They started today, right?”

“Joy.”

“Don’t you have classes, too?”

“If it’s the first day of class then I already had my first an hour ago and Physics isn’t for another six. Now confirm this runthrough and stare at me for an hour.” He jumped quickly out of his seat. Then, tearing open the door to the SIM room, he strode across the tiles before stopping in the center.

“ _Did something happen?_ ” Riku called through the intercom.

“Yes, now start the stupid simulation!”

Through the window, Riku stared at Sora. His eyebrows furrowed. Eyes narrowed in contemplation. Yet his hands still reached for his ID card, sliding it across the control panel.

From above came the announcement, “ _Simulation Started,_ ” and around him the tiles shimmered and slowly shifted into sky and long, waving blades of grass. A short distance out, a single scarecrow had been propped up in the grass, a target painted sloppily on its armored chest.

“ _Target practice, huh? Brings me back._ ” Riku’s voice echoes across the field.

Striding across the field quickly, Sora plucked a sword from the depths of the grass. He shifted it into his right hand. Eyes on the scarecrow, he crept through the field. The blades swathed up to his knees, crumpling as he stepped through them, leaving a trail in his wake.

“ _Sora, when I left you didn’t know the first thing about using a sword._ ”

“Sure I did. I _do_. You swing. You hit it. It dies.”

“ _There’s more to it than that,_ ” he argued dryly. “ _There’s a lot you have to learn about making sure the pointy end doesn’t go into you._ ”

“Oh, _really_?” Sora sneered back, drawing his arm back to strike the dummy sharply across its target.

“ _Yes, really._ ”

“Well, you would know that. You know _everything_ , don’t you?”

“ _Sora, you’re not supposed to use a sword against-_ ”

“Everyone knows everything better than I do, don’t they?” he interjected, hands clamping over the grip and swinging it forcefully into the scarecrow. But as it slammed into the painted breastplate the sword gave a soft groan and snapped, sending half the blade twirling back towards Sora’s face. Staggering back, tanned fingers clutched at a cheek that stung smartly. Around him, the simulation faded quickly away.

Storming into the room, Riku wrapped his hands around Sora’s shoulders and turned him quickly about. He admired the cut, eyes narrowed sharply. “Are you okay?” he asked, hands hovering over the neat slice

Hand slapping firmly against Riku's shoulder, Sora shoved the man away with a sharp, “I need my time, Riku.”

The man turned his face up to look the Mechanic in the eye, expression twisted into a sharp warning. “You just cut your face open. You need to slow down.”

“I don’t need to slow down!” the boy insisted, turning his face away as his voice cracked and his lip began to tremble, fingers twisting in Riku’s vest.

Grabbing the hand, Riku twisted it deftly, dragging the arm over his shoulder to pin the boy to his chest. “What’s going on with you?”

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Sora hissed into the man’s shoulder, voice shuddering as narrow shoulders shook.

Slowly, Riku’s arms drop the hold, instead wrapping protectively around Sora’s shoulders.

“I don’t know…” the boy whispered again.

A pale hand ran hesitantly through brown hair.

Laughter bubbled from the Mechanic; surprised, pleasant laughter. “Taking your social cues from my mom now?”

“Little bit,” Riku admitted. Then, after a short second, he peered down at the boy in his arms. Sora hardly came up to his collarbone, all skin and bones. Pale lips pursed, then softly inquired, “You asked him out, didn’t you?”

After a while, Sora gives a sharp, “Yes.”

Riku’s grip tightened...

… and then loosened, allowing Sora to slide out of his arms.

“I’ll run a program so you can finish your time, okay?” Riku suggested. “You go tape up your cheek.”

Nodding quickly, Sora led them back to the control room, hand coming up to prod at his cheek.

Riku watched, amused, as he tore it away and hissed. “Don’t touch it. It’ll get infected.”

“Yes, mom.” Pushing the door open, Sora stepped into the control room with an eyeroll and scoff, treading quickly up to the locker on the far side of the room to retrieve a first aid kit.

Turning to the computer, Riku flopped unceremoniously in the seat. He tapped through the menus quickly until settling into the chair with a thoughtful hum. Bridging his fingers together across his chest, he turned his head just enough to look at Sora. “Hey, do I want to not die or show off?”

“Show off,” Sora replied instantly. “You’re not in character otherwise.”

Riku nodded quickly. “You’re right. I’m not.” Turning back to the computer, he input a few command, then jumped out of his seat. “Okay! When you’re done patching the hole in your face, confirm your ID and we’ll get started.”

“‘Kay,” Sora replied halfheartedly, peering at his dim reflection in the freshly polished tiles as his fingers shakily applied the bandage. He patted it quickly into place, then leapt to his feet, clambering onto the seat and slapping his ID over the screen.

**Processing:**

**Other – Angel Mode | Range Locked | Speed Locked | Difficulty Locked | Level Locked**

**Zone Locked | Night | No Civilians**

**Your time here will be counted towards your probationary course.**

Sora blinked, staring at it curiously.

“Angel-” he began, only for his breath to catch as the black tiles of the walls, ceiling, and floors of the SIM room melted away to an endless sky and distant sea. And beneath Riku’s feet, there was the long patchwork of metal cobbled into a massive canon. “You’re fighting on the _Sister Ray_?”

“ _Nerd_ ,” Riku shouted back at him.

“ _Attention User._ ” The computer’s voice filtered through the speakers, almost too loud. “ _You have activated ‘Angel Mode.’ According to your statistics, you can only handle…_ **_two_ ** _direct attacks on this level. As such, you have entered one-hit mode._ ”

“That’s funny. It thinks my stats are yours,” Sora joked lightly.

“ _No, it’s using my stats_.”

Eyes locking on the man in the SIM room, Sora’s eyebrows arched dramatically. “You-” Yet again, he cut himself off as the simulation continued to load, revealing the figure of a tall man...

… in a black and gold mini-dress.

“Honey bee guy?”

“ _I don’t know who did that hack_ ,” Riku drawled, “ _but I do love how much his scan is aware and angry because of it._ ”

“Whoever did it was obviously working on a labor of love. It’s flawless. Should I find your scan and hack it to match? It won’t be as smooth, and there might be a little pixelation, but a yellow and black sequinned minidress is a yellow and black sequined minidress.”

“ _Go ahead. Yellow’s my color,_ ” Riku laughs. “ _Seriously, though. Don’t let the frown fool you. He’s the most powerful person in the world._ ”

Peering at the figure, Sora hummed to himself. “Really?”

Worn boots settled into a firm, wide stance as a pale arm arched in the air. And as the man took a slow, calming breath, a light burst from his fingertips. It grew, expanding beyond his hand and stretching into the air before him. And when the flash of light cleared, he held aloft a Keyblade; long and curved. “ _It’s pretty common knowledge in some parts of the universe. If you you fight him and live, he_ **_never wanted you dead_ ** _._ ”

It was then that the figure rushed forward, silver hair trailing in his wake like a dramatic cape. In his hand, a weapon had appeared. Long; blocky. It moved in a blur, beating against the Keyblade freshly summoned to Riku’s hand. The figure’s arm drew back, plunging the weapon in his hand forward.

Leaning forward in his chair, Sora watched, attention rapt, as Riku parried easily, forcing the stranger back two steps.

Then the stranger smiled.

It was an eery expression. Haunting, almost. Thin lips split with a grin that was both perfect and terrifying, and then they spoke. “ _Oh_ ,” he mused. “ _The pebble strikes back_.”

“Did he just taunt you?” Sora gaped. “How much time have you spent on this mode?”

“ _Just shut up_ ,” Riku snapped from within the program, bracing himself as a sharp breeze whipped his hair around his eyes. Bringing his Keyblade back up over his head, he pressed his weight into his toes, then rushed forward.

After that, Sora sat back, staring at the exchange with something akin to shock. He watched as they exchanged attacks. Strung lengthy strikes together that begun to resemble choreography. And, eventually, stared on in distress as they placed haphazard holes in the Sister Canon.

It was a while before it ended; when the stranger had pull back his sword, red light glittering from one hand. Riku had been ready – in position, on point, Keyblade at the ready to parry – when a great gust to wind had come from beneath them and sent him staggering even as the man in the minidress lunged.

“ _Aborting program,_ ” the computer chimed suddenly.

Inside the SIM room, the stranger froze, minidress mid-sparkle. Just before he disappeared within the steady collapse of the program, Sora’s eyes landed on the sword clutched in the program’s hands. Solid. Blocky. A thick, gray…

Key.

“CODE RED: HEARTLESS DETECTED. PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS.”

The Mechanic remained in his seat until Riku raced into the room, eyes on the boy. “I-” Sora began, He cleared his throat, blinking nervously. “I gotta get to the labs.”

Riku nodded. “I’ll get Kairi.”

They stepped out into the hall, one after the other, waving each other off beneath the red lights flashing from the spheres overhead.


	6. Nothing to be Done

The Hundred Acre Woods, two years after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
A journal entry by Master Aqua.

_ I often wonder if finding Terra is possible. It's been too long, now. He's been lost in the darkness and I have no way of finding him. Ventus' condition has yet to improve, as well. My friends in Radiant Garden assure me that he remains stable, though he is unlikely to improve. They consider my insistence to keep him deep within Castle Oblivion to be an error in judgement. But I know that if he were anywhere else dark forces would move upon him. While I have no proof of this, I can say without a doubt that Ventus would be no safer anywhere else. There's no telling what could happen if he were to be exposed to the darkness in his state. It is best he remain where he is; far from the dangers of the outside worlds. _

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter Six: Nothing to be Done**

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth by Sleep incident:

Sliding a tanned hand through long, damp tresses, a young woman crossed the wide expanse of the hall mouth. Her hips swung with tired satisfaction. A towel wrapped around her neck, resting heavily on the vest looped lazily over her shoulders. As she moved forward, gait stead, she slid quickly out of view, outline visible through the matte, partially opaque glass walls.

Racing after her, a fuzzy student sputtered out a clumsy bit of tantalog that would roughly translate to, “¿Where pool?” had it been shoved into a furnace and melted together along with Spanish punctual tone use and a thick Kashyyykan accent.

_ First year. _

Further down the hall, reclining casually against the thick, misted glass wall, Ienzo fiddled with his PHS. His fingers dragged down the screen almost like a lazy afterthought. They hovered briefly over “games,” moved on, then navigated quickly back to it with a bland urgency that sent his thumbs twitching, expression bordering on manic. He glanced back to the door to his right, eyeing the plaque with a squint.

**405 - Headmistress’ Office**

Turning back to the PHS, he shrugged. Then, peering closely at the screen, he grimaced. “Where did  π Unchained χ  go?” he mumbled. Scrolling up through the men, he eyed the default list of games skeptically. Quicksilver, Minesweeper, Gummi Survival Drop. But even as he once more reached the top of the page, overhead an alarm rang out, a voice a calm, computerized monotone.

“CODE RED: HEARTLESS DETECTED. PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS.”

Flipping his PHS shut, Ienzo’s face flitted between relief and irritation, fingers coming up to press the furrow between his eyebrows.  And when his eyes fluttered open, face turning up to glance around the hall, red lights fell upon tired eyes, swollen at the edges.

Bursting from her office door, Aqua stopping at the ready in the center of the hall, long hair slicked back in a tight bun at the base of her neck.

Ienzo sniffed. “That’s new.” Turning against the wall shoulder first, he pushed off of the glass with a huff of exertion, turning to face Even as he raced out the door.

Turning to his apprentice, the scientist motioned to the stairs, pale hands slapping his thighs as he attempted to remain level. “Ship,” he gasped.

“Ship?” Ienzo parroted, confused. “Why-”

“We have to…” Even gasped again, rising to his full height as his back straightened. “We have to check the cartridges, of course,” he rasped, stepping around the young man to stride into the hallway. He stomped around the corner, eyes landing on the cluttered mess of students attempting to force their way into the stairwell, for all intents and purposes sealing the entrance from use. “Of for f-”

**-T-M-**

Reaching for his ID card, Sora gripped it tight as he raced up to the dark lab walls, fingers fumbling with the thin plastic as the lights overhead sent the dark text shining. Sliding it quickly through the reader, he hissed a curse as the reader’s screen glowed red. He slid it again. Once more, it denied him. Finally, he gripped the card carefully, hands sweating as he dragged it carefully through the card reader. And then, at last, the screen shone a steady green and the door popped open.

Gripping the handle sharply, he dragged it open. Beyond the door, the room had been thrown into shadow. The white walls had grown dim. Machinery glowed beneath a mist that shimmered beneath the flashing red lights. Sora peered around as the door closed behind him. All but one cartridge had been removed from the machine, and tubes had been twirled together in the corner, fastened with long lengths of rope.

He was alone.

Leaning back against the door, the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

Before him, the mist shifted; swirling almost curiously around bits of discarded equipment and tall boxes.

Eyebrows furrowed as bright eyes narrowed at the glimmering air before him. He reached forward, sweeping his hand through the mist and watching it crowd around his fingers. It danced between them. Recoiled from each brush against his skin. “That’s so strange…” Sora murmured, eyeing the glimmering cloud as it shone beneath the flashing light. It disappeared in tandem with the overhead lamps flickering between the red and a neutral grayish tone, sending everything into a washed out monotonous grayscale and vanishing the mist, before returning with the flash of color.

But before long his attention turned away, eyes shifting to the single cartridge in the corner of the room that whistled lightly. A steady stream of white gas poured from a small gap between the hose connecting it to the main body of the large domed machine and the gasket wrapped around it. Casting his eyes about, he turned to the corner of the room. Striding forward and grabbing for a small bag, his hands fumbled through the pockets before coming up with a single tube of pre-mixed epoxy. Rising to his feet, he turned, facing the hissing tube once more, only to draw to a pause.

There, towering over him and glowing a sharp white with each flash of the red lights, then growing dull beneath the grayish tones to follow, stood a creature of black. Roots stretched from its face and legs, twining around human-like limbs bulky with muscle. 

“Nov…” As the word began to escape, it caught in Sora’s throat as a line of fear raced up his spine. Taking a cursory step to the side, he watched as the Heartless’ head followed the movement.

Drawing back its arm, it lunged forward, limb hissing through the air like an arrow.

Diving towards the door, Sora threw his shoulder forward, collapsing into a roll that took him over the driving arm of the Heartless and clear across the room. Stumbling to his feet, he stared back at the Nova Shadow, and for a shocked moment managed a, “Wow, that  _ work _ -”

And it was there.

And its arm was through him.

And there was pain.

For a long, tense moment, Sora’s voice grated through his chest like sand, rising and tapering before eventually fell silent as his hands rose to grip the arm lacking texture and warmth flush against him, fingers scrambling for purchase along a surface that had no surface. A long mess of black had split the fabric of his vest. Air flitted between Sora’s teeth as he heaved for air, head thrown back against the padded door. One by one, small tendrils branched off from the arm. They swarmed the wound. Pushed into it. Swirled around what little exposed skin could be found before recoiling swiftly back where they came. After which, the Nova Shadow made a strange noise – almost of acknowledgement; surprise. It was  _ impressed _ .

Slowly, its arm slid out from his skin, a rush of blood sluicing in its wake as it drew back for another strike.

Fumbling for the door latch, Sora’s arm rose in his defense, and from his fingers a light shone. It raced across his chest, forming a long string of light that blared against the monotonous tones and sharp red flashes. For all of an instant everything around him was lit. The green of his vest almost glittered. Brown hair shone a bright gold. Blue eyes glistened, tears welling to blind him.

A torn dress shirt grew quickly damp as a dark stain spread across his collar.

In his hand, a Keyblade settled firmly into place. But as his fingers met with the latch, door giving way behind him, the Heartless struck, knocking it into his chest with a sick crack. And as Sora fell into the hall, head colliding firmly with the floor, the weapon clattered into the hall.

**-T-M-**

Pale fingers running anxiously through periwinkle bangs, Ienzo tugged his hair into a lazy bun.

“Imitating Sora now?” Even teased.

Peering up at the older man, the apprentice rolled his eyes.

Leading them down the last few steps, the scientist blew a raspberry. “Great,” he snorted, arms waving toward the crowd clustered around the fourth floor’s entrance. “It’s closed off.”

“Not to you, it isn’t,” Aqua interjected, racing quickly down the stairs, PHS is hand. Turning the corner to the lower level, a freshly manicured hand waved toward the floor casually. “Go check your canisters.”

“My thanks,” Even replied shortly. Motioning for Ienzo, he waved the younger man towards the crowd with a grin. “If you would?”

Fixing his mentor with a look, the apprentice breathed a sharp sigh, then turned on the crowd, brushing a few stray hairs away from his nose. “ **Hey** ,” he shouted suddenly, voice booming through the stairwell. Waltzing up to the group, he strode up to the suddenly silent cluster of students. “ **Move** .”

Slowly, the crowd eased away from the door.

Shaking the stubborn hairs once again out of his eyes, Ienzo strode forward and slid his ID confidently through the card reader, Even on his heels. The reader beeped once, light flashing a soft green before the door popped open.

Shoving past him, the Scientist raced down the hall and turned in to the wide open doors to the Mechanic’s bay.

Turning in place, Ienzo eyed the crowd sharply. Then, he retreated backwards into the hall, closing the door firmly behind him. He swung back around to face the hall, striding quickly towards the gold doors propped wide open. Stepping through, he turned, kicking out the door stops propped against the floor. And as they closed, he watched through them as a familiar young woman raced down the hall, a man with long silver hair on her heels.

“ _ Ienzo _ ,” Even shouted, voice echoing from the wide doors propped open across the way. “ _ Keep up _ !”

“You really expect me to hurry?” Ienzo drawled, moving calmly over lengths of wire and puddles of Gummi paint. “Honestly, it’s as if you don’t know me.” Arriving at the secondary door, Ienzo glanced briefly to the large, whirring gear at his side.

It was tall. Taller than him, coated in a bright red gummi paint that shifted between dark and monochrome shades as the lights flashed. Spinning on its axle, the teeth moved smoothly beneath a gap in the floor, connecting to parts unknown that clacked. Beside it was a ship. Multicolored blocked had been sealed recently into place, the surface still shiny with moisture while canons sat at the front, already dry.

Walking calmly up the row of ships, their matching gears whirring away, Ienzo strode up a ladder to a bulky, dilapidated ship. As he ascended the steps, his hand fell beside a small section of paint had worn away, revealing the clear interior of the Gummi block that had been smashed into place. He paused, staring at it for a long second, before continuing. As he came up to the cockpit, he reached carefully over the edge, dragging himself into the ship with an awkward shimmy.

“Took you long enough,” Even drawled, fingers slipping cautiously into the padded edges of a box. From within, he retrieved a single canister. Cradling it carefully into his stomach, he set about pawing at the edges, feeling the edges for cracks and divots.

“I would not run if you paid me,” Ienzo drawled in reply. He turned to the boxes piled against the far wall, bungee cords hanging beside them like dead sea grass. The brown cardboard stood stark against the ship walls; bright orange and faded with age, illuminated by the steady light in the cockpit ceiling. Reaching into a box, Ienzo retrieved a canister of his own. Bowing under the weight of it, he set it against his leg before carefully lowering it to the ground. There, he traced the edges with his fingers.

Settling his canister carefully back inside its box, Even pulled a pen from his vest and marked it with a single X. Closing the box, he moved to another. “You know,” he sighs, “these alarms sound a lot like Radiant Garden’s.”

Slowly, Ienzo looked up. “Is that supposed to be a reference to the storm warning system?”

The scientist nodded firmly. “Yes. Do you remember those?”

Fingers stilling against the largest seam of the cartridge, dark blue eyes shuttered. “I…” he began softly, gaze shifted against the floor. “I remember a few.”

Moving to a third box, Even chuckled lightly as a small, almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips. “What do you remember?”

“I remember they would start a few hours early. They would go on until the end of the storm; for hours. But you could never tell. The wind and rain were too loud. My…” His voice caught, pale lips falling open as the words fell strangled in his throat. A short, fast burst of breathes left him, and slowly his eyes clenched shut and he managed, “My parents would bring out board games.”

They were quiet for a long time after this, going through the cartridges slowly; methodically. And, as they checked the final two, Even spoke.

“Good. All of them are intact,” he whispered, setting it carefully back into the box and marking it with a small X.

Slowly, Ienzo shook his head. “You forget; there’s one more to check.”

**-T-M-**

Passing by the closing Mechanic’s bay doors, Kairi’s regulation boots slapped the floor swiftly as she drew toward the T in the hallway.

“You don’t have to run!” Riku called after her. “He’s fine! If the Heartless have breached anywhere, it’s the Gummi Hangar.”

“If you saw what Sora has managed to get himself in-” Kairi began. But as she sprinted around the corner, her voice cut off, giving way to a startled shout.

Sora. Drenched in his own blood and crawling across the floor with his one good arm, fingers bent at an odd angle, his head held low over the floor and oozing sluggishly.

Above him, body shining beneath the red lights, was a Nova Shadow.

Kairi lunged.

There was no thought to the movement as she raced to the boy’s side, Keyblade shimmering to her hand before she arched her arm back and lobbed it through the air. Instinct drove her. Drove the flowered weapon in her hand. Drove the arc of her wrist that sent it spinning. Soaring through the air, the Keyblade slammed into the adversary. But even as the weapon spun, turning to crack its face a second time – sending red veins flaring before clattering to the floor and disappearing in a flash a light – the Nova Shadow did not react. Instead, it advanced on the boy at its feet, every step muted by newly stained commercial carpeting.

“Holy-” Riku began as he rounded the corner. He sprinted forward, passing Kairi like an afterthought as he dove between Sora and the descending arm. He held his Keyblade between his hands; palms guiding the two silver spines into the strike. And as the arm descended, slamming into the long gap down the center of the weapon, Riku planted his feet on either side of Sora and shouted, “Get him out of here!”

Leaping forward, Kairi’s hands twisted in the fabric of Sora’s vest, gripping the shoulder and waist with fingers shaking with adrenaline. Lacquered nails bit into skin as she hastily dragged him across commercial carpeting, leaving a trailing stain in their wake.

Beneath her, Sora screamed.

“Keep it together,” she demanded sharply, gaze flicking momentarily toward the shoulder furthest from her and the mess of blood that seeped out onto the carpet. Turning her face up to the man mere feet away, she called, “Do you have a potion?”

“I’m kind of busy!” Riku snapped back as it took another swing, arm slamming against the spines of his Keyblade. He staggered, shoes inching back against the slick carpet. And as another blow landed on the twin silver spines of his Keyblade, his shoe gave a sick noise as it slid from beneath him, sending him to his knee.

Dragging Sora the last few feet to the corner of the hall, Kairi propped him against the wall with a strained grunt. “Just stay here for a second, okay?”

With the good fingers on his good arm, Sora gingerly adjusted his shoulder against the glass. “Sure,” he hissed weakly. “But no longer.”

“Good,” she whispered. Rising fully to her feet, she turned to face the battle in the distance.

Sora grunted, fingers twitching against his stomach. “Okay,” he murmured. “Maybe two seconds.”

She turned, eyes fixed on a spot in the distance. Her lips pursed. Slowly, her gaze slid silently to the injured boy at her side.

Breath shallow in his lungs, Sora looked up at her in confusion, only to follow her steadily shifting gaze to the gray length of metal in the distance. Lying forgotten, flush against the wall and far out of Riku’s range of sight, Sora’s Keyblade sat unattended atop the carpet, nearly invisible in the flashing lights. Broken fingers twitched, and the boy choked out a pained whine as another strained breath squeezed through his throat.

Down the hall, the Keyblade shimmered lightly and vanished.

Her expression was free of distress. Bare of shock, disappointment, or anger. In their place was what appeared to be a carefully measured amount of surprise. It bloomed across her face, highlighted in monochrome and reds by the flashing lights overhead. Her mouth opened, only for her lips to purse resolutely. And, without a single word spoken, her regulation boots moved to step over Sora’s legs before carrying her resolutely down the hall.

Hands stretching out beside her leg, Kairi’s fingers shimmered bright before the Light burst forth. And from the shadows within it a long Keyblade emerged. Its skeletal neck curved slightly; a dragon’s head topping it with a mouth in place of a key. Striding forward, head held high, she approached the standoff in the distance.

Keyblade clutched between his hands, Riku’s gaze drew slowly to the approaching woman. As the Heartless drew back, he leaped away, stance low as he landed heavily before another lab door. “Get back! Leave it to me!”

Kairi shook her head, red hair sending sharp shadows along sharp cheekbones. “It’s my turn. Cover me.” Without a breath between, she lunged, Keyblade high in the air as she brought it down in a sharp arc to slam into the Heartless’ shoulder.

Shifting angrily from foot to foot, the man’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Get out of here!”

Staggering back, the Nova Shadow fought for its footing as the woman descended with a flurry of attacks, no time between them as she laid into it sharply.

After a long while of this, Riku threw his hand forward with a sharp shout, sending a wave of ice forward into a dark torso.

Leaping back for a short, desperate breather, Kairi managed a brief, “Thanks!” before diving back in.

In the distance, Sora watched the exchange nervously, eyes hooded as his clammy hands trembled against commercial carpets. A weak thumb fumbled for his pocket. It traced the hem, attempting to dig out the bulge of his PHS. But even as his nail brushed the vague lump pressed flush to his hip, heart thudding painfully in his ears, a warm hand settled against the hole in his collar, pressing against the wound. Jaw dropping open wide, a drowned cry slipped between dry lips.

“Would you mind keeping it down?” a familiar voice snapped. “You’re bleeding out. There are more productive things you should be using your mouth for.”

The cry slowly died to a small whine, then a sharp gasp.

“Where’s a goddamn potion when you need one?”

For a sharp second, Sora’s stomach lurched.

Eyes fluttering open, he saw golden walls, and a pair of blurred figures leaning over him.

_ “Sora-” _

_ “Let him go – he’ll die if we take him now.” _

And then lights were flashing, and he was back.

At his side, a flustered Ienzo produced a single vial from a pocket in his vest with his spare hand, shoving it uncorked into Sora’s face and insisting sharply, “Drink or die.”

A scent rose, familiar and dull, into Sora’s nose like a whisper. “I…” he began softly, voice hardly audible over the road of the alarms.

Nervously, a tongue snuck out to wet suddenly dry lips that trembled imperceptibly. Leaning into the boy’s space, Ienzo offered his ear to the boy beneath him. Eyelids drooped. Fingers fluttered as they pressed against the wound. And as he bent to hear the boy in his arms, his breath froze in his lungs.

“I hate miso soup.”

Drawing away, an expression of relief crossed Ienzo’s eyes, a small, relieved smile splitting his lips before it was wiped away by a blank mask. “Too bad,” he deadpanned, pressing it once more to Sora’s lips. “Drink it anyway.”

As the vial was brought to his lips, Sora accepted it with a twisted grimace, drinking it down with pained swallows that echoed in the fingers pressed sharp against his collar.

And he breathed. And breathed. And when his eyes fluttered firmly shut, Ienzo drew his soaked hand away from Sora’s shoulder.

The wound had closed.

“Guard!”

Ienzo’s attention turned sharply on the hall, and he watched – almost as if he were watching the scene through a screen – as Kairi was thrown aside and the Nova Shadow sprinted away from the pair of wielders, gaze fixed firmly on the boy lying prone on the floor. Slowly, the apprentice rose to his feet.

Down the hall, Kairi jumped back to her feet, racing after the creature. Drawing her Keyblade back, she caught it around the waist. The head of the dragon caught it mid-stride. But even as it sunk into the dark expanse of the Nova Shadow, a mist burst from its skin, glowing beneath the flashing red lights overhead. It swirled around her. Almost seemed to pulse. And as it swarmed her face she began to choke, hands clutching her throat as the black, white, glittering Darkness filled her lungs.

Hand rising slowly, Ienzo fixed the creature with a dry expression before snapped, “Nothing personal.” And with a flick of his finger a bolt of lightning streaked from his fingers, air booming sharply between glass walls that glowed with the light that filled the room like a flash flood. It crashed into the Nova Shadow with deadly accuracy, colliding with its shoulder right where the hole in Sora’s shoulder had been.

And still it stood.

Free hand clenching, sick squelching between pale fingers tucked into palms soaked in Sora’s blood, Ienzo cast a second bolt just as the first faded. It slammed into its stomach, this time. Crackled along its torso like a thousand tiny insects running in circles. The air was thick with the scent of something that had burned; of dry air and dry carpets and dry walls. And then there was something extra. A scent that bordered on warmth that couldn’t quite be classified. It smelled, quite possibly, like lightning.

A third spell sent the Heartless staggering to the floor, an unknown farcity of a voice screeching from its very body as it writhed on stained white carpets. But even as its face turned to the apprentice in the distance, gaze meeting eyes dark with purpose, the pale hand twitched once more and it burst into flame.

By the time the fire died, it was no more than a scorch on freshly marked glass; carpet long burned away.

Flipping open his PHS, Ienzo deftly navigated the menu with shaky fingers. From the speakers came a cheery, “ _ A medic is on their way, Kupo! _ ” before he slammed it shut. Then, sparing one more glance in Sora’s direction, he strode quickly into the empty lab.

The pair left in his wake wasted no time rushing to Sora’s side. Small hands found the sides of his face, patting him gently awake even as the sound of footsteps echoed from further down the hall.

“Sora,” Kairi called softly. “Sora,” she called again.

With a soft groan, the boy shifted away from her touch. “Go ‘way,” he moaned. “Sleeping.”

A small hiccup fell from her lips, drawing sharp green eyes towards her.

Riku watched, expression wide with surprise, as the woman threw herself against Sora’s side, hugging him tight as tears fell from her eyes as if they were the rain after a long drought.

**-T-M-**

Door clicking shut firmly in his wake, Ienzo reclined against the white pads for a long, tense second as he took a long, anxious breath. Overhead, the lights flickered; reds and shades of monochrome gave way to the gentle, even glow of the orb embedded in the ceiling. Gaze turning down to his feet, the apprentice’s mouth twisted at the puddle twisting around his shoes. Bending forward, he unzipped the regulation boots off, stepping out of them to pad carefully across the clean floor before him.

He strode up to the domed machine in the center of the room, socked feet stretching beside the hose snaking from its side to the small canister housed against the wall. Reaching for his pocket, he retrieved his PHS quickly. Once more, he quickly navigated the menu, pulling up his contacts. Quietly, the phone began to dial. He pressed it to his ear sharply as his eyes dragged over the miniscule tear in the hose before him.

As the call connected, he cleared his throat. “So,” he started dryly, “the piping leaked. That’s why the alarms went off.”

On the other end of the line, Even heaved a sigh.  _ “We should have replaced it sooner _ .”

“I killed it.”

_ “You killed  _ **_what_ ** _?” _

“The Nova Shadow,” he clarified darkly. “I killed it. Thought you should know.”

From the other end of the line there came another sigh, then a small hiss and the rustle of fabric.  _ “Mind telling me why you thought it was pertinent to destroy our most resilient subject?” _

“I didn’t have a choice!” he snapped, foot stomping down on the burst hose. It collapsed easily beneath his foot, aluminum screeching.

_ “What kind of collateral damage are we talking? Walls? Ceilings? The floor was sealed off. It couldn’t have done too much damage.” _

Falling back against the dome at his side, Ienzo reached up to tear the tie out of his hair, periwinkle tresses falling to obscure his expression. “Look, we made it too strong.”

_ “Don’t dodge the question.” _

“No one died,” the man snapped, hand motioning sharply into the empty air. “Though someone  **did** get infected and-” 

_ “Someone got infected?!” _

“-if I hadn’t shown up there’s no way of telling how many people it would have eaten.”

_ “Don’t be so full of yourself. And who got infected?” _

Mouth falling open, Ienzo manages a short, sharp breath before muttering darkly, “Just some girl.”

_ “I’m starting to think Sora was there, the way you’re reacting.” _

“I-” he began, voice twisting sharply in his throat.

_ “Did something happen to Sora?” _

“ **It got to Sora first, and threw Riku Miyano aside** .”

The silence on the other line was eerie. Almost heavy.

“You’ve heard the gossip as much as I have. War hero. Spent an entire year on the front lines. Graduated two years early with a personal recommendation from Aqua herself. Debatably the best Keyblade wielder of his generation.  It threw him aside like he was  **nothing** , and there’s a good chance that if one gets out again and I’m not here, we are  **fucked** . I’m talking  **Radiant Garden** fucked. Not to be confused with France, or China, or that week and a half we both spent stranded with a literal calculator. We would be fucked. Again.

“You know as well as I that there would be no coming back from it this time. We’ve had our shot. If we keep this up we’ll have  **spent it, and-** ”

_ “Ienzo, calm down-” _

“-  **if we don’t get this under control** -”

_ “You need to breathe-” _

“ **Don’t you think I’m trying to-** ” PHS falling from limp, shaky fingers, Ienzo staggered to his knees with a startled choke. He collapsed onto the floor, arms thrown against the padding like a last minute thought. His hair slipped over his cheek. Fringe brushed his ears as his face lie exposed before the lights, flushed and panicked.

From the PHS came a distant plea.  _ “Do you have your meds? _ ” Even called.  _ “Ienzo, do you have-” _

Collapsing flat onto the floor, Ienzo fumbled for the phone blindly, hand smacking along the pads until they came across she smooth metal of the cover. Dragging to closer, he curled onto his side with a grunt of effort. “ **I don’t need medication. I need thirty fucking seconds without something going horribly wrong** ,” he screeched, voice breaking. His breaths came fast at that. Short; wet; rattling around his lungs like an angry prisoner. Burying his face in his arms, a small, quiet sob wracked his shoulders as he professed, voice small, “I’m tired of being the bad guy.”

_ “We’re not the bad guys,” _ Even insisted.  _ “There are no bad guys. Only sides.” _

Burying his nose into the crease of his elbow, Ienzo laughed. “You keep saying that,” he began wetly, coughing around the lump in his throat. “You keep saying that, but I’m pretty sure accidentally infecting someone with Artificial Darkness and not telling them is more bad than good.”

_ “Who said we won’t tell them?” _

“You’re not going to.”

A brief silence passed before Even stated quietly,  _ “I’m heading over with your meds. And…” _ He paused.  _ “There’s nothing to be done, for now. We can just wait and watch.” _

“For all of two weeks?” Ienzo wheezes, eyes clenching against the tears leaking through. “ What do they do after we leave and the side effects start?”

_ “There’s nothing that can be done.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thought from a writer:
> 
> “Did they notice the ewok? I feel like I should be more explicit that it’s an ewok.” *Clears throat* “Guys, the dude in the second paragraph is an ewok.”
> 
> [Say hi on tumblr!](besin-is-a-moogle.tumblr.com)


	7. Familiar Faces We Once Betrayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING IN END NOTES.**

Midgar, seven years after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
And excerpt from the law books of the intergalactic representatives of Gaea.

  _"... and as of this day Planet 21 of Quadrant 11.5.18 shall be referred to as 'Maunder.' The settlement upon which “The Academy” shall receive Midgar's full financial and political support. If upon..."_

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter Seven: Familiar Faces We Once Betrayed**

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth by Sleep incident:

Bending over thick railing, peering across the ocean of sand to the five moons sitting against the horizon, locked perfectly in their orbit, Ienzo kicked his feet against the twisted glass shapes. Eyes on the moons, he leaned against the rails to eye the edge of the building. Below, the glass walls of the Academy stretched into the sand, the gentle light of the moon working into the shadows until the outline of bodies and furniture could be seen. And, beneath Ienzo’s feet, a pool sparkled.

A for a while he simply stood there.

For a long, long while.

And, just as the horizon began to glow a sharp red, his foot rose from the tiles. He stepped firmly on the small raised section that led into the rails, raising himself against the glass. Gripping the edge, his boot slipped into a small, twisted gap. Raising himself firmly against the edge of the balcony, he swung his leg over the edge, then followed with this arms.

Just like that, he fell.

Plummeting down the side of the building, he watched as the pool sped by. As the docking bay for the Gummi Hangar slipped in and out of view. The library, stacked with archived books and the occasional student, flipping past like a boring page.

But as furniture and the shadows of people came into view, the world seemed to upend itself into a shower of gold and rushing colors and nothing.

And then it was everything. But it wasn’t everything against him as he fell. It was everything as it was.

His feet were solid against the tiles the lined the balcony. Pale hands rest against clear railings that shimmered beneath the steady glow of the moonlight. Fingers curling against them, he drew back his foot with a strangled cry and launched his regulation boot into the glass. It held under the assault, his boot catching between the twists and turns of the railing, jammed between them like a freshly sunk anchor. Tugging back, he grimaced as it refused to relinquish his foot.

Then, in a brief moment accompanied by twisted features and a twisted, angry growl, he untied his shoe, stepped out of it, and left.

**-T-M-**

“ _ Try to breathe _ .”

A voice broke into the mess of swirling lights and swimming swaths of fabric, twining through the white like a golden ray of sunshine.

“ _ I’m going to set your thumb, now. _ ”

Click.

Maybe?

In the distance, far away where a maybe hospital room probably thirty thousand origami cranes swarmed somewhere beyond the tip of his nose, someone was doing something.

Sora didn’t care. His head swam like an  _ otter _ . Who needed clicking sounds? Who needed warnings to breathe – except, wait, he did need to breathe. Sometimes.

Maybe?

“ _ Are you alright? _ ”

He’s just fine, though. Dandy. Singing in the sand.

“ _ I’m going to set your middle finger, now. _ ”

A series of entirely translucent ghosts invisible to the naked eye danced before Sora’s gaze like a parade of particularly clumsy pool floats. They bobbed back and forth before collapsing and disappearing, though the blacks of their eyes still swam.

“ _ Pass me the scalpel. _ ”

Who needs scalpels when there are a dozen soot sprites bouncing everywhere?

“ _ Sora? Sora can you hear me? _ ”

“Can you hear me?”

Head lolling to the side, Sora eyed the women above him curiously.

To his right, Nani stood with her hands raised professionally upwards, gloves slick with red. “Sora?” Her voice seemed dull, as if passing through a thick pane of glass that had been erected between them. But despite this her eyes were sharp and clear. Dark and alert, they weighed heavily on the hazy expression that crossed his face.

Opposite her, off to his left and crowned by a halo of golden light, Lilo bent over him curiously. Her hair had been piled atop her head in a prim collection of tightly wound curls adorned with golden flowers and glittering pins. Her dress, carefully tailored and neatly arranged, cascaded down her form like a well-fitting stream of water. It was an almost ethereal shade of gold that confounded his eyes, sending light in a scattered mess about her as she shifted and it glittered. Deep, mature brown eyes were framed with a tasteful, thick swoop of smoky tint.

“ _ Sora, _ ” she began softly, voice a touch deeper than his memory of her yet so familiar. “ _ Sora, can you hear me? _ ”

The boy rasped a soft, “はい.”

“Do you need something?” Nani requested softly. “Sora, do you need something?”

In an instant the moment had vanished. To his left, the golden light faded, replaced all-too-quickly by the cold, impersonal glow of white curtains and bland white walls. Not Quite Lilo had faded, leaving him alone with her sister in the medical bay.

“Sora?” Nani called again.

“何が起こっている?”

**-T-M-**

Easing out of the mess of sheets and sterile medical equipment, Kairi stepped slowly through the thick glass door. Her shoes fell silently against the commercial carpeting. As the door fell shut behind her, slipping back into place with the gentle whir of hydraulics, she turned to face the dim hall.

The lights had been dimmed. Overhead, the small spheres that so often shone brightly only glowed a bare amount; just enough to send shadows across the floor. The walls seemed to blacken in the dark. No sunshine glittered from the surrounding desert, and the air was cold and sharp. It was midnight on a world with three suns.

Stepping carefully away from the door, the woman drew to an abrupt pause, eyes falling on a shape in the hall. Her eyebrows arched as her weight shifted, stance shrinking as she eyed the man reclined against the wall, arms propped on his legs. With a wary eye, she approached him. Her gaze remained fixed on the matted mess of hair that fell over his face. When she grew close, she reached out, settling a firm hand on his shoulder.

Ienzo jumped, hands flying to the floor to support him as he half fell, half scooted away from the touch. But as his head flew around and his eyes landed on Kairi, he calmed. Red rimmed eyes drooped. Tense lips unfurled. Carefully righting himself, he pulled himself out of her reach before sagging against the wall. “Good evening,” he greeted dryly.

Shaking her head firmly, Kairi leveled him with an oddly complicated, obviously rehearsed expression of regret. “You need to leave,” she insisted, voice firm. “He can’t see you when he comes out.”

“I wasn’t aware you were in charge of Sora’s social life.”

“I’m not. But I do care about him, and I don’t want him hurt just because you can’t be assed to send the right message for a whole goddamn day.”

Ienzo’s eyes turned away. Breath hissed between his teeth as his mouth formed words that fell muted into the air.

“Could you repeat that?”

“I said,” he snapped, rising sharply to his feet, “it doesn’t matter if I send the wrong message. He won’t remember it anyways.” As the words left him, his lips pursed. He turned away, eyes fixed to the monotonously repetitive texture of the commercial carpeting even as he visibly fought to hold his ground.

Expression growing tight with confusion, Kairi took a cautious step forward. “Just because he has a head injury doesn’t mean he won’t remember.”

The comment came and went without a reply, hanging in the air like an empty accusation. Until, finally, Ienzo turned back with a look. “You’re unusually calm right now.”

“I’m always calm,” the woman shot back with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

Blue eyes flicking down to the lines scuffed deep into the sides of regulation boots, then across the tattered vest hugging a long torso and equally ruined shirt, Ienzo shook his head lightly. For a brief second, he seemed to shrink. Eyebrows screwed together. Fists clenched, fingers growing white. Shoulders hunching together, he shook his head firmly once more. “Whatever. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Blinking owlishly, Kairi’s head listed a touch to the side, curious. “Is that supposed to be your version of an apology? It’s really condescending.”

“What-”

“Look, it’s easy. Repeat after me – I’m sorry.”

Peering back at her, a single periwinkle eyebrow arched skeptically even as pale hands grew lax at his side. “You have got to be kidding. Where could this possibly be coming from?”

Nodding firmly, Kairi once more insisted, “Go on. Say it.”

Unbidden, a befuddled laugh burst from him. And yet his expression bled confusion.

Striding up to his side, Kairi settled against the glass with a thoughtful hum. “I’m starting to wonder if you really hate Sora as much as you pretend to.”

At her side, the man froze.

“You’re rude, you tell him off, you insult him – then it’s like you’re flirting. You push him away, and the moment you’ve been caught off your guard you’re some furry animal with its neck bared. I’ve heard all these stories and going by the last thirty seconds I’ve spent with you, I’m starting to think-”

“You can stop right there,” Ienzo snapped, cutting her off with the weight of his fist slamming into the smooth glass wall at their backs.

“It’s penance, isn’t it?”

Ienzo’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, I’m just saying that maybe you need to back off. Avoid him. I don’t care if you like him. If your self destructive penance touches Sora again I won’t be able to remain a bystander.”

Stepping away from the wall, he turned sharply on the woman before him. “Who died and made you-” His words died with a sharp choke. Lashes fluttered in a whisper of disbelief.

Before his eyes, she stood like a beacon. Blue eyes shimmered beneath freshly trimmed red hair. A line of tiny, nearly imperceptible freckles dotted the soft curves of the apples of her cheeks and the gentle slope of her nose. Her hands were pale; long fingers affixed with lacquer that shimmered softly beneath the overhead lights. Despite her torn vest and tattered shirt she held herself with an overwhelming sense of dignity that seemed to spill into the air between them.

Wiry legs gave out, sending the apprentice to his knees in a clumsy show of respect. “ _ Princess. _ ”

“Get up.”

“My apologies, Majesty. I did not recognize you.”

Glancing nervously down the empty hallway, Kairi motioned sharply for him to stand. “Stand up!” she demanded again, an edge of panic to her voice. “Now! Before someone sees you!”

Slowly, as if it hurt, Ienzo staggered unevenly to his feet, swaying against the wall with a sharp sigh. He met her eyes, jaw slack. “How?” he inquired softly. “How did you escape?”

“That’s above your pay grade,” she informed him softly, crossing her arms firmly across her chest, shoulders turning away from the man at her side.

“Right. Of course it is,” he breathed, eyes trailing up the walls to slide across the ceiling. Lids sliding shut, he breathed again. “I suppose you are not the person I would go to in order to beg forgiveness for previous transgressions.”

Red lashes fluttered as blue eyes turned on the man at Kairi’s side. Her gaze traced the guilty line of his lips; the complicated shadow in his expression. But even as a glimmer of compassion shone in her lips, her eyes grew tight around the edges. Eyebrows furrowed sharply. A delicate nose wrinkled with distaste. But the expression – the anger – melted quickly away, crumbling beneath an overwhelming confusion that send her mouth fumbling for vowels. And from the depths of baffling sounds that slipped from her tongue like misshapen gifts, a solid, “No,” slid into the conversation, smooth as shattered glass. “No, I don’t think there’s anyone who can give you that.”

“I should have known better than to ask.”

“One would think.”

Bitterly, white teeth clamped firmly down on a pale, thin lip.

“Ienzo.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t make me tell you three times.”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Before you go-”

Ienzo turned, eyes laying on the woman standing down the way, back ramrod straight and eyes fixed firmly on his.

She posed an intimidating figure. No more than an inch taller than Sora – barely more than Ienzo himself – with a vest that hung on her like a loose sheet fluttering in the practically nonexistent breeze. And yet, pale beneath the dull overhead lights that send her into relief against the darkened walls of the Academy, she struck an imposing figure.

For a sharp second, Ienzo’s fingers twitched nervously at his sides.

“Next time someone asks you out, try being a little less brutal.” Her words were soft. Voice gentle as it eased down the hall. But as the sounds left her lips her eyes were fire; her cheeks aflame; her fingers clenched forcefully into the fragile flesh of her recently bandaged palms. “And you look like shit.”

Hands going defensively to the dried stains that crossed the front of his vest and crawled down his shirt, then to his missing shoe, Ienzo took a sharp step back. “It’s not my blood.”

“It never is.” For a moment, it was as if there was a ball of fire fighting to get past the grate of her eyes.

Turning on his heels, the man took a deep uneven breath before hissing out a distressed, “Shit.”

**-T-M-**

Waking was falling out of a Gummi ship suspended just outside the protective layers of ozone above a planet. First came the tightness of the chest. The drop of the stomach as gravity began to pull and your brain realized you were spiralling into an uncontrolled free fall. Second came the pressure in the ears. The almost tangible sound that pulsed in time to the beat of your heart. A wet  _ whoosh, whoosh, whoosh _ as blood rushed in and out and in and out and through and through. Then, finally, there came the pain. Hot, dragging pain that felt like a muted scorch everywhere the air touched as you screamed through the atmosphere like a bullet.

But Sora wasn’t falling out of a Gummi ship. Sora was strapped to a table, wrapped sparingly from head to toe in gauze and elastic as Nani Pelekai hovered over him with hands wrapped in nitrile and a gentle green glow.

“Wha-” he grogged weakly, eyelids fluttering as a machine beeped at his side, and in an instant there was a flood of numbness.

“Sorry,” Nani told him sweetly. “The Mako drip should just be kicking in. You should feel numb soon.”

“Llll,” Sora replied, tongue popping unceremoniously from his mouth.

“Good.”

“I’m kidding,” he shot back quickly, eyes rolling slowly. “Do you have anything to drink?”

The woman chuckled, shoulders moving with her lips as her hands dropped mere inches for a short moment. “You and your high mako tolerance,” she teased.

“Try some morphine,” Sora suggested lightly. “See where that gets us.”

“I already have your stupid butt in here every other week for some new stupid cast. We just got your last one off, what –  _ yesterday _ ? I don’t need you giggly on morphine.”

“But then you’ll miss me.”

“No. No I won’t. Besides, I room with Lilo. I know everything. The least you could do is spend some time with her outside the Mechanic’s Bay.”

“I do.”

“Playing with gravity generators in the Gummi Hangar doesn’t count.”

“Whatever.”

“She needs a life,” she scolded lightly. Then, turning quickly, she stepped through the curtains with a rushed, “Also, you’re on medical leave for the next month and you have a guest.”

“Wha-”

“It’s your favorite teacher!”

Sora recoiled in surprise as a dark haired body of something burst through the curtains, striking an...  _ incredible _ pose at the edge of his bed.

“Look all you like,” Mr. Fair informed him cheekily, flexing his muscles with a wide, playful grin. “Just feasting your eyes on my fabulous body should make you feel better.”

“I suggest moving before I projectile vomit all over your face.”

Falling out of the pose, Zack collapsed in the stool to his right, settling into the space Nani had previously claimed. He raised a hand in greeting. “Heyo,” he laughed. Pressing his hands against the edge of the stool, he leaned forward expectantly. “Ye Not Really Olde Headmistress sent me. You okay?”

Sora blinked, eyebrows climbing his forehead like a sturdy trellis. He cleared his throat. Bandaged shoulder twitching beneath layers and layers of cotton, he announced rather sharply, “I was stabbed through the shoulder.”

Zack’s lips pursed.

“Not be confused with  _ in _ the shoulder,” he continued slowly. “I was stabbed  _ through _ the shoulder.”

Slowly, the pursed lips grew into a sheepish pursed grin as eyes grew wide with poorly disguised discomfort.

“My collar bone was shattered so extensively they had to put it back together after dragging it through my skin with Gravity materia.”

The man shifted uncomfortably.

“Mind telling me why I’m still here?”

“Um…” Eyes flicking uneasily to the sheet he’d entered through, then back to the boy swathed in white sheets, he shrugged cautiously. “Gaea has a plan for you?”

“Don’t give me that pile of steaming shit.”

“What?” Zack peered down at his student, confused. But even as the confusion took hold, he found his attention drawn to the small IV stationed at Sora’s bedside. Eyes widening at the glimmering bag of fluids, he leaned back in the chair with a quickly growing expression of dread. “Oh, wow, you’re on so much Mako right now.”

“I should be dead,” Sora deadpanned sharply. “More than that, I should be a Heartless. It  _ stabbed _ me, Mr. Fair. Going by all those stats the Academy shoves at us, people usually turn before it breaks the skin. Instead, its hand became intimately involved with my collar bone, and if Ienzo hadn’t been there with a potion I would have bled out. There were tendrils. I could  _ feel _ them. They were  _ crawling _ into my  _ skin _ .

“And nothing happened. I couldn’t fight. It tore through me like paper. My HP was in the negatives, but all the theory books say that’s not usually supposed to happen. By then you change. But I didn’t.”

“Yes. You didn’t.”

Tanned fingers tangled weakly in stark white sheets. “ _ Why? _ ”

“Look…” Black hair fell across narrowed eyes as the man leaned forward, knuckles brushing the edge of the mattress. He glanced suspiciously around the curtains, gaze following any shadow that passed by until the only figures were blurred. Voice low, he breathed a small, “I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

Slowly, Sora’s eyebrows fell, drawing quickly together as the man at his bedside eased closer.

“There are a lot of people at the Academy who know about killing Heartless. Teachers. Students. The moogles we pay to keep the stores, kiln, and farm running.” Taking a slow, deep breath, he bit his lip. Then, hesitantly, he continued. “There are, however, very few people who know  _ about _ them.”

“Who are they?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the clearance to tell you. But I will tell you that you know them. And one of them would probably happily tell you if you ask. So, I need you to think, Sora.” Leaning back in his chair, Zack asked, “Who are the smartest people you know?”

“Lilo Pelekai and Kairi Uchida.”

Zack blinked. “Well, you got me there.”

“What?”

“Okay. Let’s put it this way.” Leaning back towards the mattress, he inquired with mock enthusiasm, “Who are the two most arrogant, intelligent, mysterious asshats in your acquaintance?”

**-T-M-**

A door – wide and metal, painted a dull shade of gold – creaked open on its hinges. In the hall, Ienzo stood, hair mussed, eyes reddened. He stepped into the small room with hardly a sound. But as he shucked off his shoe, allowing it to fall to the floor with a halfhearted show of force that sent it clattering across the carpet.

On the top bunk of a set of bunk beds, Even jerked awake. He peered around curiously, eyes glancing around the walls that began to steadily glow with the light of the sun rising until he finally laid his gaze on the young man tearing off his vest. “Ienzo?” he groaned softly. “How long were you out? The first sun is rising.”

Fingers numbly fumbling with the buttons on the vest, slowly finishing the line, Ienzo’s hands trembled as they came to grip the neck; hovering cautiously over the dark stain beside his neck. Hands dropping, he collapsed against the bottom bunk with a soft, “It was Kairi.”

With a groggy, “Who?” Even peered over the edge of the bed, hair falling over the metal rails that pressed mercilessly into his shoulder.

“The girl our Heartless infected,” the apprentice snapped dryly. “Her name is Kairi.”

“Sora’s friend?”

“Think  _ harder _ .”

Blond eyebrows rose sharply. Easing away from the railing, Even stared up at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. Pressing a hand to his chin, a thoughtful hum pursed his lips.

Pale hands drew up to fist in periwinkle hair. “It sounds familiar,” Ienzo murmured softly, eyes sliding firmly shut, “doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it…” Thin lips pursed suddenly, and the scientist turned to peer over the railing once more. Gripping it with wiry hands, his eyes laid pointedly upon the smaller man below. “Do you mean-”

“Yes.”

“Then we-”

“We did.”

Even makes a noise. “So,” he began softly. “The First Princess of Hollow Bastion – First of her name, Heir to the throne, and Princess of Heart – infected with Artificial Darkness.”

“This is it,” Ienzo hissed. “This is it, isn’t it? We’re the bad guys.”

“Don’t be a Drama Queen,” Even snapped sharply, moving from the edge of the railing to peacefully close his eyes. “There is no black and white. There are only shades of gray.”

**-T-M-**

As the walls warmed with color, giving way to the dawn peeking over the edge of the planet in the distance, Kairi pushed in through a dark door, stepping into a familiar room. The barest of light spilled from the small excuse for a window, smudging the floor in a lazy circle. The room was neat and orderly. Clean. Gone was the cornchip smell. Instead, a gentle whisper of lavender lingered in the air. Relaxing. Peaceful.

“Kairi.”

The woman glanced up, eyes landing on the silver head of hair that peered over the edge of the bed. Pale hands grasping at the bars, he dropped gracefully over the edge, landing soundlessly on the hard carpeted floors.

“Riku,” she replied breathily.

Overhead, the light flickered on. It was a gentle sort of glow. Barely brighter than the smudge on the floor. Silver hair glittered beneath it, sending a halo of light around a face bare of scars or blemishes. A small nose sat delicately between two sharp, intense green eyes that shone with concern. “How is he?” the man asked, thin lips moving to shape the words.

Polished fingers defensively grasped at the ruined fabric of her collar. Stepping further into the room, she met his gaze with a brief flash of hesitation in her eyes. “He’s stable,” she replied quickly. “They pieced together his fingers and collar bone. They’ll have him on a Mako drip for the next few weeks – or so Nani told me.”

Riku flinched. “Mako? But what about-”

“Sora has a high tolerance. He’ll be fine.”

Socked feet stumbled back until they met the bottom bunk – Sora’s bunk. Knees giving way, the man settled back onto the mattress with a sigh. Uneasy hands ran through freshly trimmed bangs. “I should have believed you,” he murmured softly. “I should have ran.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Kairi replied, hand falling away from her vest to fist at her side. “No one could have.”

“You told me he would be in trouble.”

“It was a guess.”

“But I should have believed you. I should have trusted that if you were running, it was for a good reason.”

“Look-” Kairi’s voice twisted, falling still in her throat as the light overhead flickered off once more. Sniffing lightly, she shook her head. “Stupid motion detection.” Her fists unclenched. Bringing them together, she wrung them nervously. “Look, there was no way we could have known. And as far as I know, that was easily a thirteen on the one to ten Sora’s in Trouble scale.”

Before her, Riku scoffed.

Blue eyes narrowed. Taking a sharp step forward, triggering the light overhead to suddenly flicker back to life, she peered down at the man who suddenly seemed so much like a boy. “You,” she snapped, earning eyebrows raised in surprise, “need to learn than not everything is your fault.”

“I wasn’t strong enough to stop it,” he drawled bitterly.

“No, Riku. The three of us weren’t strong enough to stop it.”

“Sora’s a mechanic. He’s practically a civilian.”

“ _ Sora has _ …” As the overhead light flickered off once more, her words drew to an abrupt end as her bottom lip fluttered.

Leaning forward curiously, Riku darkly whispered, “If this is about how he feels-”

“No, Riku – this has almost  _ nothing _ to do with you,” she gasped softly. “I don’t even know if I should tell you.”

Blinking owlishly, Riku’s fingers reached blindly for the painted ones dangling at Kairi’s sides. He took them in hand, gripping them protectively. “Hey,” he whispered. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Kairi sighed. It was a long, stressed sort of breath that stretched into the silence. But instead of replying, the woman looked in straight in the eye and whispered, “Why did you cut your hair?”

Taken aback, Riku could only manage a startled, “Uh-”

“It looked so good when you wore it long.” Bending forward, hair brushing the edge of the top bunk as she ducked to look the man before her in the eye, she twisted her hands about to twine her fingers in his. Above their heads, the light glimmered back on.

“Kairi,” Riku began lowly. “Kairi, are you okay?”

Leaning forward, red bangs whispered against silver. “I’m glad you’re back,” she breathed against his lips before pressing forward into a kiss.

Green eyes widened as pale fingers went slack. But as the girl drew away, his hands dropped hers to tangle in her hair, bringing her back to him in a desperate crash as pale lips pressed needily to a plump mouth cloaked with cheery lip gloss. In his chest, his heart beat double time. Almost as if it had to make up for the years lost.

Overhead, the light flickered off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE.**
> 
> A thought from a writer
> 
> “Wait– birthday?! WHOA. Our artist, Kollapsar/GravityBeams got a year older between the last chapter and this chapter! We should all wish them a happy birthday.”
> 
> “Hey, wait a second… Sora is remaining still while everyone else moves around him in this story. Hmm… I wonder if this is that thing called  _ metaphorical foreshadowing.  _ Also, this chapter is short, and you can thank Voodoo Doughnuts for that.”


	8. Apprenticeship

Maunder, ten years after the Birth By Sleep incident:  
A journal entry by Master Aqua

 

_ I have been called back to the Academy at last. This is good, as this means there are enough fully trained Mages to cover my absence in the larger cities. But there are so many worlds; I wonder if they will be able to cover them all? No matter – one must keep a cheerful disposition in such favorable situations. There's no reason to be worrying so much. _

_ Here at the Academy the number of applicants has skyrocketed, and Midgar has sent a team of mechanics to join our staff. It's just a small group; three people at most. It's all they could spare. All that were trained for interplanetary travel. One by the name of Cid Highwind expressed an interest in joining the staff permanently as a teacher. I cannot understand his drive for such a position, but he assures me his intentions are legitimate. (Although those are not his exact words.) _

_ With all these applicants it's simply a matter of time before I find a student worthy of the keyblade. _

**First Arc: Beneath a Sea of Stars** **  
** **Chapter Eight: Apprenticeship**

Destiny Islands, nine years after the Birth by Sleep incident:

At the edge of a dock, peering at the horizon as it flared with color as the sun fell beneath the water, a younger Sora kicked his bare feet around the empty space beneath the worn boards. His hands rest firmly against long slats of wood. Head lolling back, he eyed Kairi as she approached, pausing beside him and linking her arms behind her back.

“Another beautiful day,” she murmured, voice high and warm.

“Yup,” Sora replied softly, lips twisted in a happy grin. “Another beautiful day.”

Footsteps creaking along the boards, Kairi settled beside the boy on the dock. As her skort settled, her fingers wrapped firmly around the curves of her slightly tanned arms. “I wonder if other worlds are like this. Warm. Peaceful.”

“Before too long, we’ll know, right?”

Pursing her lips, Kairi’s eyes drew together in a complex show of confusion even as she enthusiastically agreed. “Right.”

Hands sliding behind him, Sora leaned back onto his arms.

“You know,” Kairi began lightly, “Riku has changed.”

Though his mouth twisted with interest, the boy’s eyes remained fixed on the water. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Her voice twisted, confusion slipping through to sour the word.

“You okay?” Sora asked, eyes still locked on the horizon.

“Sora,” she began, suddenly enthusiastic, legs kicking lightly beneath the boards of the dock, “let’s take the raft and go – just the two of us!”

Shifting onto his left arm, Sora turned to look the girl in the eye, eyebrows drawn together sharply as he took in her wide expression. “Huh?” he gaped.

The chuckle to follow was full; almost silly with amusement. “Just kidding!” she cheered, voice sharp with enthusiasm.

“What’s gotten into you?” Sora laughed. But even as the words spilled from him, there was an edge of confusion. “You’re the one that’s changed, Kairi.”

“Maybe.” Her voice was soft. Almost sad. And as it hung in the air a gentle implication passed, unnoticed.

Turning back to watch the sunset, Sora reclined once more against both hands. He didn’t watch as the joyful mask on his friend’s face melted away into a blank expression, empty of emotion as she faced the glittering sunset.

“You know,” she began hesitantly, smile tugging softly at her lips, “I was a little afraid at first. But now I’m ready! No matter where I go or what I see, I know I can always come back here.” Turning to Sora, she met his curious gaze as he shifted to look at her. “Right?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded quickly, grinning wide.

Her gaze swung back to the sea; to the water that shone beneath the light of the sun and banished shadows behind their backs, far from their line of sight. “That’s good,” she murmured, tone oddly somber. “Sora, don’t ever change.”

“Huh?” Sora didn’t miss the expression this time, or the way her eyes lay upon the water, taking it all in as if it were the last time she would do so. He watched, almost in awe, as she stood, falling into a perfect posture before relaxing into something more casual, attention still fixed on the far-off horizon.

“I can’t wait. Once we set sail,” she whispered, a tinge of hope shining through. But even as her words warmed, they almost seemed disjointed as she continued, tone clashing, “it’ll be great.”

Maunder, fourteen years after the Birth by Sleep incident:

“I'm impressed,” Kairi announced dryly as she settled smoothly into the chair positioned at Sora's bedside. “You've been here a good fourty-eight hours and there's no cornchip smell.”

“You don't have to sound so impressed.”

“You only have yourself to thank for this.” Flipping open her PHS, she tapped the screen lightly with one no-longer-freshly manicured finger. The lacquer was chipped, revealing her bare nail like a torn curtain. “I almost bought some air fresheners back in Traverse Town, but thought better of it considering adding chemicals to the air supply in generally frowned upon. That, and someone might swell up. One man’s allergy is another man’s Sunset Breeze.”

Sora snorted.

“It's nice they got a chair to replace that stool.” Slipping her PHS into the breast pocket of her vest, Kairi reclined loftily against the back of the chair. “So, what have you been up to?”

Eyebrows raising pointedly, Sora motioned to the bed with his fingers held wide, the splints wrapped around every other finger on full display as they passed over the obvious bulge of the cast around his leg and the bandages securing his ribcage.

“So,” she drawled, metaphorical bubble popping from her metaphorical gum as she leaned further back in her chair and leveled him with an uneven stare. “Nothing.”

Shrugging dramatically, the boy snorted. “I’ve been sleeping, mostly. Dreaming.”

“Hmm… Anything interesting?”

Fingers rising casually, Sora rubbed the cast wound about his pointer finger against the exposed apple of his cheek. He shrugged as he lazily itched the spot. “Depends on your definition of interesting.”

A red eyebrow arched amusedly. “Which also depends on the content of that same dream.”

Fingers fell from the apple of his cheek, slowly descending to the thin white sheets that swaddled around his waist. “It was about you.”

“Really? Was it hot?”

“Totally. You were in a yukata,” he began with little humor. “It was falling off your shoulders. It slid down, and your back was made of mouths.”

Kairi hummed, leaning forward to rest her arms lengthwise against her politely folded legs, one ankle tucked neatly behind the other. “Very sexy. What was it really?”

Dull expression falling sharply, Sora snorted. He shimmied further down the bed with an amused grin. Elbowing at the pillows at his back, he sunk into them with a sigh. He met Kairi’s gaze with a narrow grin. “Remember that raft we made?”

She blinked. “Raft?”

“Yeah. I think I was… fourteen?” His eyes turned to the ceiling, tracing the patterns made by the carpet against the smooth glass overhead. Relaxing back against the pillows, he nodded lazily. “Yeah, fourteen. So about five years ago. It was the day the island was attacked. You made me run everywhere, getting mushrooms and water and coconuts.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember that. You kept forgetting what I asked you for. That’s a pretty boring dream.”

“Well, it wasn’t the day itself I was dreaming about. It was just the very end. You know; before we left the island. I was at the dock, and you walked up. We were talking. You were wondering if the other worlds would be as peaceful as home.”

Leaning back against her chair, Kairi rest her arms regally on the rests. “Ironic, considering we were attacked that night.” Waving one hand, she drawled, “And when the Heartless appeared, so did the legion of  _ space ships _ .”

“You said we should leave without Riku.”

Mouth falling open, Kairi sputtered quietly, “I did not.”

Sora’s eyes fluttered shut. “I’m not talking about when we met the dispatch team. On the dock, before the sun set, you said we should leave without Riku,” he clarified softly. “You said you were joking, but I don’t think you were.”

Rising suddenly from her seat, Kairi grinned sharply. “You know what we should do? We should go have a smoke.”

Eyes flying open, Sora stared at the girl at his bedside, expression grim. “Okay, first, don’t change the subject. Second, I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed out of here yet.”

“And you would be right,” a familiar voice called, muffled by the sheets of fabric hanging about his bed. Pulling them aside, Nani stepped into the small ‘room’ with a complicated grimace, peering down at a silver tablet clutched in freshly manicured hands. “Besides, what kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t step in on your insistence to continue smoking?”

“A normal one?” Sora offered blandly.

“I am seriously doubting the quality of healthcare where you come from.”

Moving out of the woman’s way, Kairi snorted. “The islands might as well be the heavy metal buildup of third hand smoke at this point. Every time a generation starts smoking, we add a new land mass to the family.”

“You terrify me.” Reaching for the tube that trailed from the glimmering bag hung at Sora’s bedside to the boy’s arm, she slid a needle firmly into a small nozzle. “We’re going to start flushing the Mako from your system,” she informed him professionally as the plunger descended. “I’m starting with an additive. Remember to call for me if you start feeling woozy at all.”

Sora moaned. “Can’t I keep it?”

A dark eyebrow arched skeptically in his direction. “Depends. Do you want to revoke your major and devote your life to battling on the front lines.”

“Yes.”

“Tough luck, protege.” Withdrawing the needle, Nani spared him an exasperated look. “Remember to stay awake for a few hours.” With that, she left. The sheet drifted from side to side in her wake.

Kairi collapsed back into her chair. Turning to Sora, she fixed him with a dry grin. “So what will you be doing with the scads of free time you’ll be having on your hands? You know – now that all your classes have been cancelled and your remedial courses suspended for your medical leave?”

“I’m thinking of asking them to place me in a medically induced coma until I can walk,” Sora replied honestly, eyes locked on the sheets that wafted back and forth.

“No,” Nani objected dryly from the other side.

“Okay then,” he drawled. His gaze shifted, eyeing the girl as her fingers played with the clean hem of her vest. “Kairi, can you bring me some of Riku’s books?”

Shapely eyebrows arched. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m actually very far from kidding.

**-T-M-**

“Remember, set it down  _ gently _ .”

“Might I remind you that it was I who carried the first seven canisters?” Ienzo snipped sharply, fingers shifting frantically along the curved edge of the steel box. Bending at the knees, he followed it down to the floor, settling it with due caution against the commercial carpeting laid across the Gummi ship flooring. Rising to his feet, the apprentice wiped angrily at the sweat beading down the side of his face, plastering blue fringe to his ear. “ _ Without _ your help?”

“Don’t get snippy, boy.” A pale hand swiped at long bangs that threatened to fall into green eyes. Pulling his hair back into a ponytail, Even gave a huff. “I’m going to head to her office. I’ll be back immediately after it ends; hopefully with the papers we need.”

“And if she doesn’t give us the papers?”

His words fell to no one. Even had left, leaving him alone in the cramped gummi ship. The air around him felt empty. Almost cold. Sleeves rustled as arms came up, crossing before the man’s chest as if to ward off a chill breeze. Then, allowing them to drop to his side, Ienzo walked calmly over to the Gummi ship doors and strode down the incline into the Hangar.

Crossing the catwalk, he heard in the distance the clatter of metal and tools. The whirr of gears. The hiss of concentrated fire spells melting through sheets of steel. But as he passed through the Mechanic’s Bay and out into the hall, a new sound arose.

“I-en- **zo** !”

The apprentice turned just as a body sidled up to him, a long arm sliding around slight shoulders. 

A familiar tall man leaned against the petite apprentice with a wide, amused grin. “Whoa-ho, I-en- **zo** . Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you? Like, I kept hearing rumors that you were at the Academy, but I hadn’t seen you. You’re like the  _ pool _ , man. With so many mentions you start to wonder if it’s just some elaborate joke.”

Ducking out from beneath the arm, Ienzo set off down the hall with a borderline angry, “Hello, Myde.”

A hand raised cheerfully. “Rammu du oui duu!” Myde quickly moved to follow, lips twisting in an amused grin.

“In Tantalog, please.”

“Oh, come on. What happened to that ten year old boy who whispered, ‘Sprich nicht mit mir, du verrückter Mann!’ under his breath?”

The apprentice paused. Turned. Stared at the strange man who pulled up to his side. “You spent an alarming amount of time practicing that.”

“Yes I did.”

Setting off once more, Ienzo scoffed. “You always did spend too much time on useless things.”

“Yeah, whatever. You’re a pretentious prick, I get it. How long do you think you’ll be at the Academy?”

“With as much luck as we can muster, no more than a week.” Drawing to a pause, Ienzo slid his ID card firmly through the reader beside the glass door before him. It chirped quietly, light flashing green before hydraulics hissed and the staircase was revealed. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to eavesdrop upon.”

**-T-M-**

_ And so Anxigot stepped into the water. _

_ “Dry your tears, my sweet Stallion tamer,” he crooned even as his head fell beneath the waves, voice carrying onto the beach to caress the delicate ear of his once-lover. “Carry with you always my loincloth.” _

_ Clutching the ragged strip of fabric to the torn front of her intricate bodice, Guenevere raised a dark hand glowing in the moon’s mood lighting to press wanly to her lip. “Mon dieu.” _

_ And so, he sank into the sea. _

“What’cha reading?” Nani mused, peering at the cover curiously, eyeing the swirl of Kanji beside the bodice on the front like a strange decoration.

_ As he reached the bottom, Anxigot raised his arm above his head, waving the slip of fabric gently above him like the sweet sayonara of a flag until the undertow tugged it from his fingers, spiriting the panties away through the ocean like a letter in a bottle. _

Closing the book on the last page, Sora sighed. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted softly. Setting the book guiltily on the sheets, he reached nonchalantly for another from a towering pile placed precariously against the bedrail.

**-T-M-**

Regulation boots slapping the floor in a neat, orderly fashion, Ienzo raced up to the man stepping through a glass door.

The man paused. Turned. As Even peered down at his apprentice, his eyes narrowed pointedly.  “You don’t have to stand outside the entire time,” he insisted dryly. “You didn’t even have to come in the first place.”

“What do you suppose I do, then?” the boy insisted sharply. “Twiddle my fingers to the tune of my internal screaming?”

“I don’t know. Play with blueprints in the SIM room. Swim in the pool. Visit Sora.”

“We don’t have a pool.”

“It’s here on the fourth floor – just down this hall, actually. You turn left, and then-.”

“Even, I once spent three weeks in my second year looking for that pool. We don’t have a pool.”

Blond eyebrows arched. “Suit yourself. But you can’t be here,” he insisted sharply, hand sliding along the edge of the door, pulling it slightly open. Stepping around the edge, he motioned for Ienzo to leave. “Shoo,” he hissed.

Inside the room, Aqua chuckled. “Everything alright, Dr. Even?”

Peering around him, the scientist huffed lightly, allowing the door to fall shut in his wake. “Simply a boy who wishes to be counted among the adults.”

“It’s about time, isn’t it? He’s nearly twenty-two, isn’t he?”

“The longer I can keep him from having to take responsibility for Radiant Garden, the better.”

Aqua fell uncharacteristically silent as her guest settled in the seat opposite her. She braced herself against the desk. Fingers lacing over a small stack of papers, she cleared her throat. “So, shall we begin?”

“I assume it starts with the usual?” the scientist noted softly. “NDAs, performance agreements, and research guidelines that repeatedly state that we’re not allowed to torture anyone this time.”

“That’s about the gist of it, yes.”

Snatching up the pen nestled deep in the womb of his front right breast pocket, Even brought it to the papers with a flourish. “You people and your morals.”

“Even,” she sighed, sinking into her chair with a hand to her forehead.

“I’m signing them, and that’s what matters. Besides, it’s not like torturing people was  _ my _ idea.”

“ _ Even. _ ”

The scientist glanced up, mouth falling open as his eyelashes fluttered dazedly.

Subtle though it was, a line of contempt ran between Aqua’s eyebrows. Her mouth had twisted with distaste. “You were in that room just as well as he does. You bear that blame. And let me be  _ entirely _ clear that if ShinRa weren’t deadset on getting your research funded, you wouldn’t even  _ be _ here.”

Beneath the weight of her gaze, Even shrunk back into the seat as a snail would a shell.

Pushing the last of the papers across the desk, Aqua cleared her throat. “These are for him.”

“Yes…” Taking the sheets warily, he eyed the heading sharply. “Representative papers?” he read.

“I’m going to be very frank with you,” she began softly, “and tell you that, the way things stand, while he is one of the best mechanics in his class, this is the only way the Academy can allow him to go into the field. His probation is going very poorly. At this point, we can’t allow him to continue his schooling. He won’t be able to graduate before he finishes his course requirements. I can’t let him go out into the field the way he is now without proper supervision.

“I’m going to send the Restoration Committee a copy of the papers once he signs them. Leon and I have been discussing the possibility of Sora’s transfer for a while now. You will all share housing in a residential district, and you will be expected to turn one of the bedrooms into a lab. Sora will be asked to do some work around town and on the castle regularly. He will be escorted to and from each site, and while working he will be accompanied by them at all times. He is never to be alone in an area that presents a threat. Am I being clear?”

Slowly, Even nodded.

**-T-M-**

Between two tanned hands, clutched in long fingers like spindles, a book sat heavily against a leg propped against the smooth railing of the medical bed. Around him, white sheets fluttered in a slight, almost nonexistent breeze. Shadows played along them. Long arms reaching. Faces turning; talking; their voices numbed by distance and spells. But as Sora played with the edge of the book, preparing to turn the page, a sheet was brushed aside. In came the voices. In came the shadows. But even as Sora glanced up, they faded. In their place, a man had joined him in the confines of the medical enclosure.

Sharp blue eyes trailed down the length of his cast. “It… really got you.” There was something in his voice. Almost like regret. Or an eyelash.

Sora set the book down, peering up at the man who had appeared before him. He watched periwinkle hair flutter in the slight breeze, the whirring of fans further off than it had been all day. Watched pale fingers brush invasive fringe away from dark eyes. Blue eyes. Dark, dark eyes. For a second, between the sheets hanging around them in the medical wing, and for a moment that Sora would never forget, they looked a sad, sad, sad black.

In that moment, Ienzo was so beautiful Sora could almost cry.

“- wrong?”

“Huh?” Sora blinked, peering up at his guest as his mouth fell numbly open.

“I asked if something was wrong,” the man parroted amusedly. “I take it you’ve been placed on a pain medication regimen?”

Head physically shaking, as if to wake himself, Sora made a noise of dissent. “No, no. I just didn't expect to see you here.”

Settling into the chair, Ienzo settled an arm against the rest, propping his cheek against one pale hand like a tripod. “The SIM rooms were full and we don’t have a pool.” He motioned lazily to the books, easing back into his chair. “What are you reading?”

“I don’t even know,” Sora replied softly, peering at the pages as if they had betrayed him.

“Read a line for me, then.”

Pulling his nose from the book, the mechanic met his companion’s eyes warily. “推力-”

“In tantalog,” the apprentice interjected, amusement playing at the corners of his lips.

Eyebrows arched, cheeks flushed, Sora buried his nose in the book once more. “I’d rather not.”

“Let me guess – it’s dirty?”

“Uh-”

“Go ahead. I haven’t read a dirty book in a while.”

“You-” Clearing his throat, Sora leaned into his pillows with a grimace. “You read dirty novels?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Well…”

“You didn’t think I was some prim and proper stereotype, did you?”

“I-”

“Because while I am an asshole, I don’t think I really live up to that expectation of a flat personality and no hobbies. I’m not someone who resigned themselves to the cookie cutter lifestyle that many worlds thrust upon you.” Scoffing softly, Ienzo shook his head. “No one at the Academy can really afford such a  _ simple _ mindset. We’d go crazy.”

They sat in silence, the words hanging between them for long, heavy seconds before Sora brought the book to his lap. “Why do you do that?”

Ienzo grimaced, straightening in his chair. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“I mean, like – you do this thing. I imply something, you go on this rant that eventually vilifies my thought process. You always do this. It’s like you care about this arbitrary subject more than you care about my feelings. Yeah, you’re opening up. I’m learning more about you and some random topic. But instead of being a fun, happy discovery, it’s like you point it at me like a weapon.”

The apprentice, peering over at the boy, felt his mouth fall open.

“You know I like you,” Sora continued blindly, face still obscured by the book in his hands. “You rejected me, saved my life, and now you’re showing up at my hospital bed because you’re  _ bored _ and you couldn’t be assed to find the swimming pool. So instead you show up at a place I have no ability to leave and proceed to both share about yourself and insult me in the same breath. Least to say, I’m confused. Because if this is intentional, I have no idea what you’re trying to pull. If you intend to share about yourself and be ‘fun’ or ‘quirky’ then you need to leave, because your quirk is terrifying. Alternatively, if you intend to drive me away, why did you come here?”

“I-”

“You know what? I don’t know if it’s the Mako drip, or if I’ve suddenly grown a backbone, but Kairi’s right. You’re messed up, I’m out of shits to give, and I need to stay away from you.”

“May I imply that you’re jumping to conclusions?”

“No. You may leave. Now. And the next time I see you, it will be in a professional capacity.”

**-T-M-**

Full to the brim, writing with students who spilled from the locker room across the way, freshly washed and dressed haphazardly in rumpled uniforms, the hall was not a friendly place as Even stepped out of Aqua’s office. He could still feel the weight of her stare long after the door had closed. And as he set off down the hall the papers in his hands grew heavier with each step.

As he rounded the corner, his eyes laid upon a boy with periwinkle hair turning the corner, slipping unnoticed down a hall of students and away from the Medical Center.

For a second, Even remained in place. He eyed the place where Ienzo had been, seconds before. Then the door he had stepped out of. Finally, he slid his card through the reader and stepped through.

Fans whirred, almost silent, built into the walls and ceiling. The air was fresh. Clean. Recently pumped out of the farm a good three floors up. Even took a long, deep breath before turning to the sheets that hung from gliders drilled into the ceiling.

“Looking for someone?”

Even spun on his heel, facing the woman behind him with a practiced grin. “I’m looking for Sora.”

The woman – Nani, going by her name tag – nodded firmly. “He’s behind that first curtain. Head right in.”

With a polite incline of his head, Even shifted back to face the sheets that hung across the room; a makeshift divider that wafted lightly in the breeze. As he reached for the first of the sheets, tugging it aside, a tingle made its way up his arm. It nearly left his fingers numb. And as he stepped into the glorified blanket fort, what few sounds he hadn’t been aware were there – the gentle beeping of a machine, the whir of air through a tube, a gentle buzz of the fresh air being funnelled into the room – fell away to the background, muffled by fabric and magic.

“Sir.”

Even turned. In the center of the sheets, practically cobbled into a medical bed, was Sora. His leg was elevated. Shoulder heavily bandaged. Between his fingers, a novel sat heavily against the fabric of his blanket. The doctor paid it no mind, instead settling into the chair and immediately offering Sora the sheafs of paper in his hands.

Slowly, Sora marked his place in the book, settled it carefully against the left railing of his bed, and accepted the papers with nervous fingers.

“I would prefer it,” Even began softly, “if you read through them all right now.”

The boy looked up, blinking owlishly. “Right now?” he repeated, aghast. He stared back down at the papers. “There’s-”

“Twenty pages, yes.” Arms settled against the rests; pale fingers tapped impatiently against one another as they steepled before the gaunt man. He motioned casually towards the papers with both hands. “I need you to read them carefully. If there is anything you do not understand, take your time looking it up. I will not have you making an uninformed decision.”

“O… Okay.” Sinking fully into the pillows at his back, Sora fixed his attention on the papers.

It was a long time before he turned the first page.

Then another.

And another.

Nani came and went, injecting half a syringe into Sora’s IV.

Five pages in, Sora announced, “I’m pretty sure this entire pamphlet qualifies as fine print.”

“Just keep going.”

It was an hour and a half before Sora looked up again.

“Is this for real?”

Even shifted forward, attempting to hide the uncomfortable arch of his back as he attempted to stretch. “Yes, it is. We will wait until you recover, of course. We intend to depart to Radiant Garden, where an interested party has seen to it our projects will be funded.”

Flipping back three pages, Sora eyed the top of the page cautiously. “Is this supposed to be in here?”

“We will be operating outside the jurisdiction of the Academy,” the scientist began, pausing to clear his throat, “but you will not. Once you enter my apprenticeship you will no longer be a Mechanic in Training of the Academy. As you can probably guess from that application in your hands, you will be a Representative of Destiny Islands first and a Mechanic second. The application, before you ask, will go through. It was Aqua’s suggestion.”

“That’s…” Sora blew out a breath, shaking his head numbly. “... insane. I’m not representative material. Don’t you need connections for that? And – I don’t know – training?”

Even shook his head. “It’s complicated, but the point is they’re letting you go with us. If you want.”

It was a long time before the boy flipped the makeshift pamphlet shut, reducing it once more to a sheaf of papers. “This is it, isn’t it?” he whispered. “I either accept this or I fail the next SWAB and they send me home.”

Again, silence.

“Okay.”

Even’s eyebrows arched. “Okay?”

“Just… okay,” Sora breathed. “I never wanted to be an apprentice, to be completely honest. But I guess I have no choice.”

Sheepishly, Even’s arched fingers laced together before him, pressing nervously against his chin.

“Is that it, sir?”

The man blinded, eyes shifting back to the boy in surprise. “Is what it?”

“Is that everything you wanted with me, sir?”

Nodding a bit slowly, Even eased back into his seat. “Of course. Sign the papers, as you like. As soon as you’re on your feet we’re off to Hollow Bastion.” He attempted to ignore the tanned fingers that clutched the papers, knuckles a sick white. “Do you happen to know how long your recovery will take?”

The boy shrugged, motioning to the IV hooked to the bar above his bed. “They had be on a Mako drip for the first day, and a few hours this morning, so anywhere from two days to two weeks.”

“Good, good. I’ll take my leave, then.” Rising from his seat with a put-upon groan, Even slowly straightened, managing a weak grin. “Message me when you get out.” 

Sora nodded firmly as he man turned, fingers brushing aside the sheets encasing his room. “Right. Thank you, sir.”

Even paused, spinning on his heel to meet the boy’s eyes. “Sora?”

“Yes?”

“Stop calling me sir.” And with that, he turned to leave. This time for good. But before he could take a single step, he was interrupted by a soft, almost scared, “Even?” Unbidden, his lips split. A warm, nostalgic grin broke across his face as he turned to face the boy – almost man – who would soon become his apprentice. “Yes?”

“I have a…” Sora’s lips pursed, and he glanced furtively to the chair at his bedside. “Could you sit down? I have a question.”

Blond eyebrows arched for a brief instant before Even strode quickly over to the chair. “Of course,” he affirmed quickly, settling into place even as his warm grin was washed away by a curiously serious expression. “Is it about the paperwork?”

Grabbing at the braid that had twine itself around the pillow, Sora drew it between his hands, drawing his fingers nervously along the strands. “It’s not about the paperwork.”

Gently, Even nodded.

“It’s about the attack. See…” Clearing his throat, his eyelashes fluttered as his gaze drew across the comforter stretched across his lap. “When the Heartless attacked… I saw my papers. I was admitted with negative sixteen HP. I don’t even  _ have _ sixteen health points.”

“Yes. What about it?”

Again, Sora breathed out. It was uneven. Sharp. Nervous. “I’m asking,” he began, arms, legs, and fingers drawing in and in and  _ in _ until he was a tense ball of nerves. “I’m  _ wondering _ why I wasn’t turned into a Heartless.”

Leaning forward, Even rest his elbows against his knees. He propped his chin atop his fingers with a thoughtful hum. “You’re in Remedial Light, yes? And they teach you about the physical applications of Light and Dark?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Recall, for a second, what you know about Darkness,” Even prompted, his nasally voice shifting into something a touch smoother. Kinder. “It doesn’t just sit around waiting for a chance to undermine you.”

Sora bit his lip before inquiring with narrowed eyes, “What do you mean?”

“Magic.” The word hung in the air for a long moment before Even’s lips split in an uneven grin. “Magic comes from the Darkness in the Heart. Without Darkness, we would not be capable of commanding the elements. Those with the greatest insecurity are often in the possession of the greatest potential.”

Leaning a touch forward, Sora’s right hand carded anxiously through the messy fringe that hung across his eyes, cast catching against the strands. “That would be great if I were any good at spells.”

“Magic manifests in many other ways,” the scientist continued lightly. “In the hall – I’m assuming the Heartless focussed its attentions on you.”

Nervously, Sora met his gaze.

Even met this with an encouraging nod. “The Heartless are attracted to the Darkness in your Heart. Out of everyone in the hall, it wanted you the most. Do you know why Heartless are attracted to the Darkness?”

“Because the more powerful your Darkness, the more powerful your Heartless.”

“Precisely. Now, what do you think your Darkness was doing when that Heartless attacked you? Here’s a hint: it wants to remain in the form that it’s in.”

Again, Sora pursed his lips. “It was…” His brow furrowed, eyes screwing up as his gaze turned back to the comforter. “If it wasn’t doing nothing, was it… protecting me?”

Rising from his seat, Even brushed aside the curtains once more, turning to offer a parting, “Be proud, Sora. A Heartless is more likely to kill you before it can change you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me on tumblr: http://besin-is-a-moogle.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/besinfection (Most posts are about The Mechanic.)  
> Find me on Tumblr: http://besin-is-a-moogle.tumblr.com/tagged/the-mechanic (All Mechanic related posts on my Tumblr. Always up to chatting.)


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